Red Moon

Chapter 11- A Secret Meeting...

The night was silent and cold and the lone figure in the alley could feel it crawl up his spine like a snake. He crushed his body to the brick wall of the tall, townhouse buildings when his ears heard the sounds of talking. He pressed himself further against the wall, his pale hand slipping into his stolen cloak for his wand, but the voices faded into the night. He breathed a sigh of relief, but still refused to let go of his wand, and continued walking down the alley way, his eyes searching for the right address and then his eyes landed on the old, ragged sign hanging above the empty street. He smirked, his hand pushing his curly, dark hair from his face as he looked up at the sign. He walked toward the cluttered store front and rang the doorbell, a low shrieking sound echoing in his ear drums. A couple moments later, the old, paint scrapped door opened up to reveal a small house elf. It's rough, leather ears were flattened against its head and its eyes stared at the floor. It wore an old pillow case, the edges going brown from dirt and dust.

    The man sneered down at the house elf, "Move, you foul creature," and the man pushed the house elf to the side roughly, the creature landing on the floor with hard thud. The man stomped through the door way of the shop, waiting for the elf to close the door and take him to the meeting.

    The house elf's eyes watered slightly as pain shot through the back of his head. He got up off the floor, walking with a limp toward the door and shutting it quietly like his master had told him to do so. The house elf then limped toward the wizard and motioned toward the back of the store, "This way, Master LeStrange."

    The wizard walked toward the back of the store, his soft soled shoes making no noise on the hard wooden floor. He found his way to a large room, the door hidden behind a box of old, dark magicked objects. The room held a medium sized group of witches and wizards, all sitting on crates or standing around, waiting for something, most likely him. A blonde male, his hair long and messy, sat at one of the crates toward the far end of the room. The man looked up from the floor, his grey eyes widened with shock, "Rodolphus, you're here?"

    At the man's name, a dark, curly haired woman from behind the blonde male looked up. Her midnight eyes connected with his, her lips forming a smile. She ran from behind the blonde male and toward him. Rodolphus smiled, a genuine one, and caught his wife in his arms. He sighed as he inhaled her scent; an odd mixture of prison and his favorite smell, jasmine. His wife always smelled like it, no matter what battle they were in, or if they were running for their lives, she always smelled like jasmine, "Bella," he whispered her name in her ear. She tightened her arms around him in response.

    "I thought you were dead," she said, looking up into his own dark eyes.

    "I thought so, too," Rodolphus responded, his hand rising to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he smiled brighter. No matter how she acted around their Dark Lord, he always knew she loved him.

    "Not that this is all touching, Bella and Rodolphus, but we have some business we need to get too," the blonde wizard interrupted them; his jealousy of Rodolphus having his wife so close by flooded his veins.

    Bellatrix LeStrange let go of her husband and led them toward a crate to the side to sit down, "Of course. Sorry, Lucius," Bellatrix responded for them as they sat down, her hands never leaving her husband's body in fear that he would float away from her once again.

    Lucius Malfoy smiled as he turned toward the rest of the wizards and witches in the room, his eyes landing on several he was very happy to see, "Look around, my fellow Death Eater, we are all that is left of the Dark Lord and we shall avenge him," he promised and he took a small stack of Muggle photos from his stolen pea coat. Usually he didn't like having to deal with anything Muggle, but he made a small sacrifice to his pride for the photos, "What I am about to pass around is our leverage for that," and he took half the deck and passed it to his left and gave the other to his right. Several gasps echoed across the room, "We are going to attack Harry Potter and his friends and what better way than to make him suffer."

    "Their werewolves!" a woman shrieked in horror. Lucius looked at her. It was Alecto Carrow, her blonde hair cut short and her eyes glistening with disgust as she looked down at the photos. She passed the photos to her brother beside her, his blonde hair also cut short. His face though was dirt and bruised covered from his abuse in prison.

    "How revolting," Amycus Carrow responded, his voice light and airy.

    "How are we going to make Potter and his group suffer?" Alecto asked as she turned to Lucius, folding her hands in her lap like a proper Pureblood lady.

    Lucius gave a toothy grin, "We are going to trap them in their werewolf bodies and set them loose in Diagon Alley. They'll be seen as wild and feral and would have to be put down," his tone turned to humor, "What better way to torture the Chosen One than to have his own side kill him," he then burst into laughter. His fellow Death Eaters around him echoed him.

    The laughter though was cut when a high pitch voice began to speak, "But, Mr. Malfoy, isn't your son one of them, too?"

    The laughter suddenly stopped and all watched Lucius as he stood up. His silver eyes narrowed in on a short, plump, toad looking woman sitting in the back of the room. He scoffed, "Mrs. Umbridge, I should have guessed you would have escaped too," the witch gave a cheeky grin and one high pitched chuckled, "And Mr. Draco Malfoy is no son of mine," he addressed the rest of the group now, "And anyone who says otherwise will meet the end of my wand."

    "And my daughter," a lanky, dark haired man stood up, "Miss Pansy Parkinson is no longer my blood," and he sat down, anger at his own daughter for betraying him glowed in his eyes, "She can rot next to Potter when we trap their bodies."

    "And I promise that, Mr. Parkinson," Lucius smirked, "Our children will feel their betrayal and much, much, much more."

    "When do we start?" Alecto asked as she stood up, her body shaking with want of having the werewolves beneath her heel.

    "We begin this Saturday at Malfoy Manor," Lucius laid out the plan, "We kidnap the members of the pack one by one, until the Alpha and Luna appear from their hiding spot."

    "Then we turn them," Amycus was practically bouncing in his seat.

    Lucius nodded, "Then we turn them. We turn every stinking one of them and bask in their howls of pain."

    The room burst into cheer and laughter. Then, one of the crates burst at the high magical level in the room, and from it spilled bottles of fire whiskey. They clanged together on the floor. Lucius smirked and took one of the bottles, smashing the top on one of the other crates and raised it above them. The liquor flowed down his hands, coating them in the sticky liquid, "To our glory and our Dark Lord!"

    "Our Dark Lord!" the Death Eaters responded and then Bellatrix LeStrange gave a high pitched, shrieking cackle announcing the start of the night. The witches and wizards ran for the liquor flowing from the crate and danced to silent music on the wooden floor. Rodolphus and Bellatrix LeStrange found a secluded corner and consummated their marriage once again, playing each other's bodies like musical instruments. The rest of the night, the Death Eaters drank their sorrows away and released their tensions in the only way they knew: liquor and sex.