The Son of Lord Voldemort

Chapter 148

14 February 8pm

Moody grunted, announcing his displeasure towards Thomas Davies and Ezekiel Smith. It had been a month since the two aurors had infiltrated the Death Eaters and they hadn't learn anything of value.

"Are you truly surprised, Alastor?" Kingsley asked, exasperation leaked into his deep voice. "Voldemort is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. Did you truly believe that he would simply trust them after one month of service?"

"Of course not," Moody barked, insulted. "But I expected them to use some ingenuity and find out something — anything. They've come to us again with nothing." He slammed his hand against the wooden table. "We're fighting a war here, and we have nothing to use. Nothing!"

"We aren't exactly invited to their weekly lunches," Ezekiel muttered.

Kingsley frowned. "Weekly lunches?"

"Every Monday the inner circle meets for lunch at Malfoy Manor," Ezekiel said.

Moody frowned, his scar pulled tight against his jaw. His good eye narrowed. Severus had never mentioned weekly lunches. He glanced towards the doorway where a disillusioned Dumbledore stood.

"And you didn't tell us this before?" Moody growled.

"It didn't seem important," Thomas said.

"Everything is important," Moody snapped.

"Is Voldemort there?" Kingsley asked into the tense room.

Kingsley's tone made Moody glance quickly at him. His good eye narrowed further.

"No," Thomas answered.

Kingsley sighed. "I have an idea, but I don't like it."

Moody's frown turned into a grin. "Care to share?"

"Polyjuice potion," Kingsley said.

"It just might work," Moody said, as he leaned against his staff. "We couldn't use polyjuice ourselves besides the wards at Malfoy Manor would know our dark marks weren't real." He looked at the two aurors. "But your dark marks would be real."

Thomas and Ezekiel wore twin expressions of horror, even as both of them subconsciously reached for their dark marks.

"If they find out we're dead," Thomas said. "Worse than dead."

"You both signed up for this willingly," Moody said.

Thomas' right eye twitched.

"I wanted to make a difference," Ezekiel said. "Help people."

"By doing this you'll be helping more people than you could ever know," Moody said.

Moody frowned in concentration. It was a risky mission, but it could be extremely rewarding. The reward definitely outweighed the risk. In his mind he imagined the inner circle, or at least those he was aware of, and discarded those like Bellatrix, who they wouldn't stand a chance of impersonating. He smiled.

"Barty Crouch Jr," Moody said. "The man's mood is mercurial to say the least. You've said so yourselves that on the few time you've seem him he's acted differently on each occasion."

"They would need to study him," Kingsley said. "We can't send them in there if they don't stand a solid chance."

Moody ignored the incredulous looks the two aurors were giving them. They knew what they had signed up for. Did Moody want to send them into the proverbial lions den? No. But they needed an advantage if they were going to win this war.

Moody tapped his cane against the ground. "You have until June to study Crouch. His mannerism, his speech patterns, the way he interacts with others. Whichever one of you is more believable will go in."

"That's all?" Thomas asked.

"It's four months too long," Moody said. "A storm is brewing, boys. We may not have enough information, but we know enough to know that he has something big planned for this summer, and we need to find out what it is." He looked at each man in turn. "Four months is all we can afford."

xxXXxxXXxxXXxx

After Ezekiel and Thomas had left, Dumbledore stepped forward and canceled the disillusionment charm that shielded him from view. Moody didn't give him the chance to say anything before he barked.

"Why didn't Severus tell us about these weekly lunches?" Moody asked.

Dumbledore looked sharply at Moody. "We must not jump to the conclusion that Severus knew about them, Alastor." Moody looked at him in disbelief. "I will speak with Severus. If he did know than I am sure he had a good reason for withholding the information."

Moody barked a condescending laugh. "You still trust him?"

"With my life," Dumbledore answered.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Do you think what we are doing is wise?"

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard before allowing his hand to fall to his side.

"I fear, Kingsley, that we don't have a choice," Dumbledore said.

Kingsley made a sound of frustration. "You say that this is all for the greater good, Albus. But is it really? You know what they had to do to get marked? Torture, Albus! Torture. How is this all for the greater good? When this is over, what will be left of them? We allowed this to happen. What will be left of us?"

Dumbledore sighed. He didn't like any of it anymore than Kingsley did, but it had to be done. Every life was precious, but if one person, or twelve, had to die so that millions could live… It was necessary. Unfortunate, but necessary.

"If we do nothing, Kingsley," Dumbledore said, "nothing will be left at all. No man, woman, or child. Nothing."

"I still don't like it," Kingsley said.

Kingsley stood up and walked towards the floo.