Before the Dawn | George Weasley

50

I was summoned to Malfoy Manor, which had become the official Headquarters of the Death Eaters.

I arrived at the same time as Dolohov, giving him a curt nod as we walked together through the front gate and up to the house, my forearm still tingling from the pain of being summoned.

Once inside we were met by Peter Pettigrew, a snivelling, cowardly excuse for a man whom I rather disliked. He set me on edge, what with his darting stares and constant sycophancy, and I avoided him whenever I could. I could not do that now, however, as he led Dolohov and me up the stairs, through the parlour, and to a room with a long dining table, a table I had sat at so many times before.

Voldemort sat at the head of the table, and Dolohov and I bowed as we approached him.

"My Lord," Dolohov said, taking a seat. I echoed him but remained standing.

"No need to sit, Dolohov, you won't be staying long," the Dark Lord rasped. "I have an assignment for the both of you."

That caught my attention; I had never been assigned anything directly from the Dark Lord himself. 

"Doyle, I presume you are familiar with the wandmaker Garrick Ollivander," said Voldemort, turning his gaze on me now.

"Yes, my Lord, I bought my wand from him when I was eleven."

"Dolohov?"

"I know of him, my Lord." Dolohov spoke quickly.

"Good," said Voldemort. "Bring him to me."

Dolohov and I descended on Ollivander's wand shop in Diagon Alley like a pair of meteors, smashing through the front windows and knocking over countless shelves of wands as we went.

Ollivander cried out in fright, scrambling away from us, but Dolohov quickly got behind him and put a bag over his head. Together we dragged the elderly man out the front door of his shop and disapparated away with him, back to Malfoy Manor, where we left him in the cellar for later interrogation.

"What do you reckon he wants with the old man?" muttered Dolohov as we climbed back up the stairs.

"Probably something to do with wands," I said dryly. 

Dolohov just snorted.

I caught sight of Draco and Lucian in the parlour, then, and left Dolohov to join them. "Gentlemen."

"Doyle," Lucian said, and Draco nodded in greeting.

"I hear you've started being sent on assignments," said Draco shrewdly.

"News travels fast," I observed. "I've only just got back from my first one."

"It's impressive, though," said Lucian.

"Not as impressive as whatever Draco's been assigned," I sighed. "I wish I were going back this year just so I could watch you do it."

Draco smirked. "It'll be the only good part about returning to that pathetic excuse for a school."

"Not going for Quidditch Captain, then, I take it," I said flatly.

Draco snorted. "I don't think so. Not sure I'll even play this year, if I'm being honest."

"Draco tells me you annihilated Ravenclaw for the Cup this last year," remarked Lucian. "That's quite a feat."

"Yeah, we did," I said. "Seems like forever ago, though."

Draco hummed in agreement, looking up as he was summoned by his mother to speak with the Dark Lord. 

"Duty calls," he smirked and left me and Lucian behind.

"Lucky git," I muttered.

"Sounds like you're well on your way, too, Doyle," Lucian chided. "And you've only been here for a couple months."

I kept my eyes on the spot where Draco had disappeared moments before. "He hasn't told you anything about his task, has he?"

"Not much, no." Lucian followed my gaze. "I think he's rather enjoying the exclusivity." After a beat, he looked back at me. "How's Jamie?"

"Bloody mad at you, she is," I said sharply. "And I get to hear about it. Do us both a favour and visit her more often, will you?"

Lucian sighed. "I don't want her to find out."

"Lucian, you've got the Dark Mark carved into your forearm. She's going to find out eventually," I snapped.

"You live with her, and she hasn't found out about you!" he argued.

"I'm not the one trying to marry her!" I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "She and I tend to keep our clothes on when we're together, if you catch my meaning."

"Yeah, alright," he said, rather miffed.

"Actually," I said, glancing out the window at the setting sun. How had it been only that morning I'd apparated to Azkaban? I was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of exhaustion. "I'm headed back there now, if you want to come with me."

"I..." He looked hesitant.

I gave a heaving sigh and whacked him over the head before turning on my heel and walking out of the Manor. As I was just about to disapparate, though, Lucian caught my arm.

"Good choice," I said dryly, and together we disapparated back to the villa.

I walked in first, feeling as though my feet were made of lead. Jamie was in the kitchen, stirring a pot that gave off a lovely aroma.  The smell suddenly reminded my stomach that I hadn't eaten all day, and it gave a dull roar.

"Where've you been?" Jamie said in a slightly scolding tone.

"Absolutely everywhere." I sat heavily in a chair at the counter. "Can I have some of whatever it is you're making?"

"Yeah, of—" She broke off at the sight of Lucian. "And where have you been?"

"Hello, beautiful." He took a step towards her, but she brandished the spoon in her hand like a sword.

"Don't you dare come near me, Lucian Bole!" she snapped. "You will sit and wait until I've finished eating, and then I will decide whether or not I want to deal with you tonight!"

He cast a desperate look in my direction, but I offered him no sympathy. 

"She said to sit and wait, Lucian." Then I spied a bottle of wine on the counter. "Mind if I have a glass? It's been quite a day."

Jamie nodded, returning to her cooking. I reached over and poured myself a generous glass of wine, drinking from it gratefully.

"Can I have some?" Lucian asked quietly.

"No, you may not!" Jamie snapped without turning around.

I staggered to my room after dinner, the combination of the day's events and the wine, which I'd had more than a few glasses of, making my eyelids feel heavy. I collapsed onto my bed and was asleep in an instant.