Blackbird

Chapter 22

Ted never would've thought there'd be someone worse than Filch, but he clearly hadn't been thinking it through.

Yaxley, Rosier, Dolohov, and Rodolphus Lestrange stumbled into the room. Dolohov and Yaxley were holding bottles of firewhiskey, though all four of them we're clearly drunk. Wait, all three of them. While Yaxley, Rosier, and Dolohov all collapsed into their chairs with the grace of a mountain troll— Yaxley even missed his chair the first time around— Rodolphus casually leaned against the side of the desk and folded his arms across his chest, staring at his friends with a look of slight amusement on his face. He was either sober or he did drunk better than his friends. Eerily better.

But then, a lot of things about that guy were eerie.

"Did you see their faces?" Yaxley chortled as he took another swig. "Looked like they were being chased by a horde of angry spiders."

"They were being chased by a horde of angry spiders," Dolohov slurred, and the two of them burst into laughter.

"We need to get out of here," Andromeda whispered.

"What? And miss the primetime show?" Ted muttered, but he trailed off as he glanced over at Andromeda.

Piper was shaking, all over. And there were tears streaming down her face. Her breath was coming in short, heavy gasps. It was like she was having some sort of panic attack.

"What's her deal?" Ted mouthed, but Meda only shook her head.

"Would've been e'en better if it was mudblood girls," Dolohov slurred. "One bite and their skin gets all oozy, thadda make them scream."

"Yeah, wadda yeah think, Rolf," Yaxley called, "Wanna make 'dem mudbloods dance?"

Piper let out some high-pitched cough, like a mix between a hiccup and a sob.

Rodolphus's head whipped into their direction.

Andromeda clapped her hand over Piper's mouth, but it was too late, the damage had been done.

They froze, scarcely even daring to breathe, as Rodolphus's eyes roamed over the corner where they were hiding. There was no smirk on his face this time; just his dark, endless eyes.

As slowly as he could, Ted reached for his wand. If Rodolphus decided to come and investigate, then their best bet was to take him out. Then they could take out the other three and make a run for it.

Just as his hands closed around the familiar wood, warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. Andromeda shook her head. Ted was about to protest, but something in her eyes stopped him. There was a steeliness there he hadn't seen before, like her brown eyes were flecked with grey. He sighed, inwardly, but nodded. She released his wrist, placing her hand back on Piper's shoulder in comfort, but he saw her other hand clenching her wand under her robes, ready to strike.

"Rolf?" Dolohov prompted again.

Ever so slowly, his eyes turned away from the corner. "Pathetic."

Dolohov's face pinched together, like he were trying to solve a particularly complex problem, or was possibly just constipated. "What?"

"Your plan. It's dull. Unoriginal. Not worth my time."

"He's right," Rosier cut in. "Setting a horde of spider's after them means the spiders get to steal all our fun."

Xayley's eyes lit up, like Rosier's statement was prophetic in nature. "Then what?"

"I know who we should do it too," Dolohov waved his bottle around. "This Hufflepuff girl squeaked when I grinned at her the other day. Bet she'd scream all nice and pretty."