Frigus . Sirius Black (Mortem BOOK 2)

chapter thirty-nine

September 30th, 1979 - New York City 

Nephera was standing above what was left of the New York Death Eater chapter, the rest of her group behind her, although they were having a significantly harder time coming face to face with the bloodshed. New York had been harder than New Orleans, in the sense that the city was huge and ridiculously overpopulated, but with Ailani's connections, the ones Nephera had essentially inherited, and in Peter's opinion 'a shitton of luck', they had managed. 

The routine was the same they had followed last time, round them all in one place by feigning some big threat, this time it was spreading rumors of Dumbledore's arrival in New York. Then, using the inferni to attack, and single out the leader. That's when Nephera would order the undead to kill everyone but the one in charge, where she'd repeat the same questions as last time. 

Are there any more Death Eaters in New York? It's alright, you can tell me, we'll strike a deal. 

Do you know anything about Helga Hufflepuff's cup? I'll set you free, I promise. 

The answers were the same, leaving her thoroughly disappointed as she cut the head off of the leader of the group. Standing up, she wiped her hands on her jeans, cleaning them from the blood best she could, "We need to get out of here, lest we want Aurors on our tail," she said 

"She's right, come on," grunted Peter, "We need to be out of the city by tonight," 

The rest didn't speak as they followed after the pair, keeping their eyes on the floor and trying to avoid the many bodies literring around it. Nephera had always wondered whether they had thought it through, joining the Order, because the way they were acting certainly didn't seem like it. She didn't blame them for not being comfortable with death, but did they really think that fighting in a war would be easy? Did they not expect this? The death, the blood... 

She knew who was to blame behind it, and it was the same person she could blame a lot of things on. Dumbledore had lured them in with the false idea that they'd be doing the right thing, which they are, truly, but he'd sugarcoated a lot of it. All of them were now getting hit with the realization that the Order was changing them, and it was turning them into a person they had never thought they'd become. 

They apparated back to Emily's grandparent's house, where they had been staying for the past days while in the city, and everyone made quick work of getting their stuff together so they could move on to the next location, "Another day, another fucking bloodbath," sighed Peter, falling down on the couch next to Nephera 

She nodded, too tired to say something, as she cast a silencing charm around the room. She trusted the people on the mission with her, except Emily, that is, but it didn't mean they had to know everything. "Did Gids try sending another letter to our beloved Headmaster?" she asked 

Peter reached into his jacket, taking out an envelope, "Already rewritten and ready to be sent," he said 

"What would I do without you, wormy?" she joked, "We'll send it once we get to L.A., which is like- the last place I want to be in,"  

The wizard laughed with her, "At least the weather's going to be good, right?" 

Peter didn't want to be talking about the weather, for there was one question that had been lingering in his mind for days. 

Do you know anything about Helga Hufflepuff's cup?

Nephera had aksed that question twice now, and the rest might be too scared to ask her what it was about, but he knew her better than that. He didn't know what she'd wanted to do with Hufflepuff's cup, but if she was asking about it, it must be serious.