The Marauders: Year Four

Honey and Sweethearts

Honey and Sweethearts

The Lestrange mansion was modest compared to Malfoy Manor, but huge compared to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Regulus stared up at the stone columns that lined the front entrance as they passed through the gate. He followed Walburga and Orion to the front door and inside, passing by the house elf who had opened the door. Regulus smiled at the elf, but he didn't smile back or even say anything, he just pushed closed the door behind them and scurried off to the kitchens. "Come in, come in!" sing-songed Bellatrix, who hopped and clapped as she saw them, "The Dark Lord's right this way, right this way..." she looked positively ecstatic to have the chance to be ushering in fellow Death Eaters to her home, her eyes glistening with excitement. "The Dark Lord's right in my parlor! Come, come." She herded Regulus from the back.

The parlor was dark and spacious, one wall lined with inset shelving that was covered with artefacts of all sort. The Lestrange family went back many, many pureblood generations and they'd collected an impressive assortment of dark items, procured and preserved over the ages. The fireplace glowed, hot and orange, and a tall black chair held the Dark Lord, a snake curled and coiled across his lap as he stroked it. People were standing about in a semi-circle 'round Voldemort, their eyes eagerly trained upon him, anticipating any move he made. Walburga put her hands on Regulus's shoulders and squeezed them tight, holding him before her as though presenting him again to the Dark Lord.

Looking 'round, Regulus noticed Severus Snape stood beside his mum, Eileen Prince, across the room. Eileen looked quite tired, her eyes bloodshot. Severus did, too, and he was fidgeting nervously.

Voldemort was looking upward, a grin playing across his face as he stroked the snake's scaly head. Regulus turned, following Voldemort's gaze and was quite shocked to see that, high up in the hollow of a vaulted ceiling was an iron cage, hanging in the center of a dome probably intended for a chandelier. This far more sinister use was being occupied by a woman who lay on the floor of the cage, shivering in the cold of the room.

There was another knock on the door and the house elf, who had just come in the room with a tray of tea that he placed on the table beside the Dark Lord before rushing to go and answer it.

Moments later, a shuffling sound preceded the entrance of an old man with a thick cane, composed of what appeared ot be a hundred tree roots, all tangled up together to form a thick knot toward the top. The old man used the cane to feel his way forward - he was the Blind Seer, and Regulus recognized him from the staff table at Hogwarts - the Divination teacher. Though Regulus hadn't had Divination yet, it was very hard to miss Kostos Mopsus, whose reputation about the school was nothing shy of being legendarily terrifying. This was the closest Regulus had personally been to the seer.

"Welcome," Voldemort bade him, "I'm most delighted you were able to come, seeing as you've turned down no less than four previous invitations."

Mopsus had come to a stop at one side of the Dark Lord's chair, "I have had important business to attend to," murmured the seer.

"Such as working for Albus Dumbledore? Or perhaps you're referring to the murder of Lyall Lupin?" asked Voldemort.

The Blind Seer did not respond.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and bring me the boy, Mopsus?" Voldemort hissed.

"I was under the impression that you would rather ensnare him," Mopsus replied, "Seeing as you've hung your bait already..." The old man's eyes travelled up to the cage. A pale, terrified face peered over the edge at him.

Voldemort looked up, then turned back to Mopsus. "How long must I wait?" he asked impatiently.

Mopsus was quiet a moment, the question processing in his mind... finally, he said, "Soon."