The Weapon Maker

7

1956 was a strange year.

The Dark Lord had been staying out for several hours for work.
He would leave early the morning and return late the evening.
It was clear that something was going on.
Rigel didn't dare to ask.

"The following days, I'll be away for a while."
He informed her one day at dinner.
"Oh. Am I allowed to know?"
"No. Do not ask me to reveal anything. For your own safety.
Maybe I will tell you some day. When the time is right." He said enigmaticly.

"You have found the heirlooms, haven't you?"
She asked cautiously.
"Please, don't make me say anything else."
He looked at his glass of wine while holding it next to his plate.
Rigel understood that she was right.
He had found something, and he wanted to do it alone, as once he had said before.
And she respected that.

It was late spring.
Half the days were cold and half hot.
He was gone for a week now.
Rigel, all those days, she would wander around the house, practicing her own curses, and continue her research on those she was currently working on.
Sometimes, she would go to the graveyard, walking around the gravestones.
She loved going there for a walk.
She was careful, though, because not far from there, the caretaker of the Manor lived there.
His name was Frank Bryce. The Dark Lord had casted a confundus charm on him so they would live freely in the Manor without him intervening.

It was nice being alone. The silence was addictive.
She went to the village sometimes, undercover.
She found some old muggle clothes of hers, and she glamoured her face a bit.
The people didn't even care about her presence.

In the middle of the second week, she was in his room, cleaning, when a loud crack stopped her.
"Out. Now."
Rigel glanced at him once and disapparated instantly at her own room.

From the quick glance, he was soaking wet.
His hair was messy and wet, as well as his coat, dripping drops of water on the carpet of his room.
He remained there, standing in the middle of the room. His fists glued at his sides.
Everything was ready.
His plan was perfect. He only had to bring it to life.

With a flick of his wand, his clothes were dry and clean again, and the water on the carpet disappeared.
As soon as he was presentable again, he went to the living room.
Rigel was already there waiting for him.
"Everything according to plan?"
She asked from the dinner table.
He just gave her a reassuring gaze while sitting.
They ate in silence.

"I will resign from Borgin and Burkes."
He announced.
She looked at him for a moment.
"Okay."
"Aren't you going to ask why?"
"If that's what you want, it's not my business.
Furthermore, I can tell it has to do with your absence, so I will not ask further questions. "
He looked at her satisfied.

"I'm going to leave again.
Are you going to be okay with that?"
"Yes, I'll be fine." She gave him a sympathetic look, nodding.

"Good. I don't know how long I'll be gone, though."
"It's alright. I'll manage."she shrugged her shoulders.
"I leave you in charge of everything here and for the operations we are currently running.
I fully trust you to answer letters on my behalf and hold audiences if needed."
Rigel's eyes widened, leaving her fork down slowly.

"Are you going to be safe?"
Was the only thing she asked.
The Dark Lord smiled slightly.
"Don't worry about me, Rigel.
I'm more than capable of keeping myself safe."
He gave her a wicked smirk.
"I never doubted you, my Lord." She bowed her head slightly.

She cared, and he knew it.
She cared like family. He was her family as well.
He was the first person she felt like family.
He was her savior.
He would always come first.
And he knew it.
He knew he played a significant role in her life.
She didn't want to lose him either.