The Dragon's Treasure

Yule

Remus was right on the verge of something, he could feel it in his bones. He was supposed to return to the pack tomorrow for the rest of Yule break. He had read through so many newspapers, and there was something that was bothering him.

He drew a timeline in the air with his magic. It filled the room with a golden glow. With another flick of his wand the newspapers came flying toward him, hovering in the air. He looked between the timeline he had drawn and the newspapers, adding pertinent dates to the timeline.

An hour later he was staring at the timeline dumbfounded. It couldn't be a coincidence that all the followers of the Olde Ways died right before the first war. There was a score of deaths in the five years prior to the war on both sides. The Potter's, the Black's, the Fortescues, the Malfoy's, the Lestranges, even the former Lord Longbottom.

The deaths were all reported as natural, due to some sickness. But laid out like this, it was difficult not to see the deeper meaning. The children of these families had been pulled into the brewing conflict. With nothing left to lose, they threw themselves into fighting a bloody war.

Remus reached out his hand towards the names Charlus and Dorea Potter. He loved them so, Dorea was the closest thing he ever had to a mother. Fenrir was not one for romance, and had never married.

He was certain now that Dumbledore had something to do with these deaths. The Potter's, the Fortescues, and the late Lord Longbottom at the very least. A heartbroken howl ripped through his chest before he could stop it. He wondered if he would ever stop mourning those he had lost.

He stripped off his suit jacket and grabbed a broom from the side of his desk. He threw open his window and rode down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He dismounted the broom quickly before he transformed. He howled loudly into the night, and ran through the forest until he saw the first light of dawn.

"What do we do?" Lady Malfoy asked. The question hung in the air. Lady Malfoy turned her head at Mipsy's soft voice, and saw her holding the letter. Lord Malfoy had dropped it in his rage.

"What's that Mipsy?" she asked, drawing closer to her elf.

"The wizard who sent this was careless. It reeks of his magic. It is familiar mistress, one of those mean men with the masks. Theys was terrible, they was."

Lady Malfoy shuddered, but drew closer to Mipsy. Elves had remarkable abilities. Perhaps she could remember which Death Eater this magical signature belonged to, or track him down.

"Do you know which one?" she asked.

Lord Malfoy and Lord Black watched in fascination. They knew elves were gifted, but to remember a magical signature a decade later was remarkable.

"There were two that were always together. So nasty, so vile."

"What are their names?" Lord Malfoy demanded impatiently.

"Dolohov," Mipsy squeaked, "and Crouch Junior."

Lady Malfoy straightened up and backed into her husband's arms. Mipsy was right. Those were two of the worst options she could think of. Crouch Junior was supposed to be dead, and last she heard Dolohov was living in Siberia.

"Can you track where the letter came from?" Lord Black asked. Mipsy looked at Lady Malfoy nervously but nodded her head.

"I can track where it was sent from."

"Then go, but take Kreacher with you. I don't want anything happening to either of you."

With Lady Malfoy's nod of approval, Mipsy popped off to fetch Kreacher. They adjourned to the study while they waited for the elves to come back.