Deliver for the death eaters

Chapter 11

Lucius Malfoy had a very interesting start to his morning. Everything had gone normally – he had showered and dressed with little issue – until he went downstairs to join his family, Voldemort and the other Death Eaters for breakfast. You see, the werewolves' race track was quite extensive. So extensive, it came close to one of the main staircases. The young werewolves were having a race before breakfast – with the loser having to forfeit their smoothies to the winners – and until then Team Sunshine Car was in the lead.

Unfortunately, the werewolves had forgotten that the wizards actually use the stairs and don't always Disapparate from one room to the other.

They were all thoroughly confused when their 'spotters' reported that the cars had yet to make the corner nicknamed Jörmungandr.

"Where are the cars?" they had wondered out loud.

"THESE DAMN WEREWOLVES AND THEIR CARS! ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL ME!?"

Ah, they had run into Lucius Malfoy. Whoops.

That was not the last surprise that morning. The last thing that Augustus Rookwood, or indeed anyone sequestered away in Malfoy Manor, had expected to see that morning, was an impromptu visit from the Royal Mail Muggle. No one had any time to see what Potter had sent them this time because the van was gone within five seconds flat and had been the only one to stop. Crystal Holland had been out for a run when the van had dumped something in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor and of course, curiosity did kill the werewolf in this instance. Crystal had leapt over the wall, gathered the pile of ... welcome letters and magazines? ... jumped back over the wall and quickly carried them into the Manor to find Rookwood.

The former Unspeakable was at breakfast, enjoying another one of Rabastan's delicious smoothies, as well as eggs and toast. Everything seemed relatively calm for the Dark Lord and his Inner Circle's doing – well, with the exception of the sulking Dark wizard himself at the head of the table. Nagini and Thalia had flat out refused to listen to him apologise for giving Thalia a clown wig and nose the day before and were petulantly not leaving their habitats. They even had gone so far as to wear the Granger girl's awful House Elf Rights society fashion again, just to spite him. To make matters worse, the Potter Brat had given him another string of nightmares: a gingerbread man that looked a lot like Dumbledore wielding a knife chasing after Voldemort and his Death Eaters, killer sheep out for revenge against the werewolves, Wormtail cooking in a frilly pink apron and the furniture in Malfoy Manor becoming sentient and trying to kill their inhabitants inside.

It was safe to say that Voldemort was not in the best of moods that morning.

Fenrir raised his head and smiled kindly. "What have you get there, Crystal?"

"It is for Rookwood, sir," Crystal informed.

"The Muggles dropped off something for Augustus?" Macnair lit up way too quickly at this.

Rookwood already began to deflate at that. This could not be good. What had Potter done?

Yaxley sniffed at the bundle of plastic and paper in the young werewolf's arms as she brought the delivery over to the resigned Unspeakable. "Potter must have run out of ideas to give you such a mundane 'present'!"

"Maybe this is your punishment for being so utterly boring!" Dolohov cackled.

"Or perhaps the boy is simply experimenting with gifts to a person he doesn't know very well," Snape sighed, quietly wishing that Dumbledore had allowed Firewhiskey at the meeting last night so he could nurse a headache from being hung over rather than dealing with the spawn of James' latest antics.

Rookwood attempted to ignore them as he took the bundle out of Holland's hands with a small, apologetic smile for he read the quick notes with the bundles. They all said essentially the same things.