They looked around the place with a permanent look of disgust plastered on their faces. They were in a foul-smelling alleyway off Knockturn Alley.
The Dark Lord, Severus, Lucius and Draco stood outside a unkempt garage door of sorts which apparently was the entrance to a high-class bar, exclusive to the Dark Side.
"Draco," the sibilant tones of Lucius' voice echoed slightly on the dirtied walls of the almost empty alley, "Are you sure this is the right place?" he warned as his hand gripped Draco's shoulder.
His father had been very worried for Draco when he was marked. When the Dark Lord was 'reborn' as they called it, he had gone through a stage of complete insanity, torturing and almost killing everyone in sight. It was lucky that Lucius was of value to him or else he may have suffered a fate worse than Death itself.
Luckily for Draco, the man had kind of ended the 'insanity' phase, and was much more lenient, though that didn't mean he was a complete teddy bear. No, he still had an undoubtedly short temper but it was better than complete lunacy. He even allowed for Severus to assist in killing Dumbledore. He would have preferred that he wasn't to one to kill him but understood why the Dark Lord wanted him to do it.
"Yes father," he shrugged his father's hand off his shoulder. In Draco's eyes, the Dark Lord was way more understanding than his father had described him. Perhaps he was just being over-dramatic. He did have a reputation for being quite the Diva.
"We have to walk right through this wall," he gestured to the wall covered in grime and dirt.
Lucius gave Draco a stern look as if to warn him. Draco gave him a confused look back. Did his father not trust him enough not to upset the Dark Lord? Sure, he might not have been a complete lunatic but he was not crazy enough to upset him. He still had quite the reputation.
After his 'rebirth', he was born as a snake-like creature with uncontrollable anger. Wormtail definitely messed up the ritual. Luckily, there is nothing a little magic can't fix. Did they really think that he would stay an ugly nose-less creature. Ew.
He was now rather good-looking, in his eyes; with dark brown curls and a sharp jawline. He kept the eyes of crimson purely because he loved how it struck fear into people. He was fully capable of bringing his chocolate-brown eyes back and often did when he wanted to blend in; like on this occasion.
"Now, now Lucius, play nicely," the Dark Lord said putting a hand on Lucius' shoulder causing him to tense.
"Lead the way, Draco," he encouraged the boy.
Draco took a look at his father and nodded. He took a few steps forward and to his relief, he didn't hit the wall.
Severus followed behind him and the Dark Lord let go of Lucius' shoulder, to the man's relief.
The rather tall man, dressed in long black combat robes, followed after the Potions Master with a stride so smooth that it looked as though he was gliding.
As soon as he stepped through, he felt a strong compulsion charm wash over him. Lucius came in shortly after him and he saw his eyes glaze over. He looked over at Severus and Draco and they were similarly still.
He was surprised that it went through the Potion Master's Occlumency shields.
He took in his surroundings and found that he was in a small room with a red curtain as one of the walls. With that thought, a woman, dressed in a server's uniform opened the curtains.
"Are you guys spies?" she asked monotonously as if it was something she said 200 times a day.
Immediately, as if programmed to do so, Severus, Lucius and Draco replied in unison, "Yes, we are spies for the Dark Lord."
Her eyes went to the man who had not answered and deduced it. The look on her face was not pure horror, but confusion. She raised an eyebrow.
"One moment," she held up a finger before disappearing into the curtain again.
Only a few moments later, she came back.
"Come on in," she drew the curtain with a smile.
The Death Eaters were released from the charm and followed their Lord behind the curtain. Voldemort felt a ward on those curtains. A very odd one at that. It was a ward that scanned their magical core, only letting those with Dark Cores through.
The Ancient art of Ward-weaving was rare and many said that it had been lost long ago. He had heard about the art in a book he had found in the Chamber of Secrets but decided that he was too busy. Plotting to take over Britain took up a lot of time.
It was quite busy with many different kinds of people, most of which were not even Human. Sat at stools and tables were Vampires, Werewolves and Goblins, all of them looking as though they were relaxed, safe at least.
The Dark Lord's eyes scanned over the crowd of people and they landed on the one they were looking for.
Francois Loculus, the Vampire Lord.
He had arranged a meeting with him to form an alliance for the upcoming war. He was very impressed that Draco had managed to find this place.
Demeure des Ombres, abode of the Shadows. Quite a clever name. He would have to applaud whoever came up with that. cescawriter 👏👏👏
"Ah, Francois, old friend," Voldemort greeted as he glided over to the Vampire. He had visited Francois in the First War seeking an alliance which he unfortunately declined. Apparently, this time, he was considering it. The Vampires were a valuable asset to the upcoming war and it was crucial for the Dark Lord to gain their support hence why Lucius was so hard on Draco.
"Lord Voldemort," he smiled, baring his pearly-white fangs as Voldemort took a seat opposite him. They sat in a curtained booth, raised above the floor.
The Malfoys and Snape sat on a few barstools close to the table, close enough to hear the conversation.
They talked business for about 5 minutes when some yelling took them out of their conversation.
"They shouldn't let your kind in here!" a man, presumably a vampire due to his looks, said as he pushed a rather hairy man to the floor, probably a Werewolf.
"You filthy mutts might get us all muddy," he added as he stalked towards the man who was getting up from the ground with a look of pure hatred on his face. Severus snickered, earning glares from the Werewolves, shutting the Potions Master up.
Tom looked at the bartenders who looked annoyed as they watched. The situation was most likely a regular occurrence.
"Too afraid to fight me Filthy Blood-Suckers? Afraid to get your manicure messed up?" he mocked, earning chuckles from surrounding Werewolves. The two were now circling each other with matching predatorial sneers plastered on their faces.
"The very existence of your kind is beyond contemptible."
"Wow," he turned to his friends, "Big words for a little boy."
The Werewolves laughed. They were considerable larger than the Vampires and, if it was hand-to-hand combat, they would most certainly win.
"Care to tell me what's going on?"
Voldemort sensed a Dark Presence with one of the most powerful cores he had sensed in a long time, if ever. Its magic was Dark, so deadly and Dark.
Their eyes went to the rather small presence, dressed in black combat robes with a hood, covering half of the wearer's face and a wand holster strapped to the side of his leg. It was stood in front of a set of large doors in the opposite side of the bar to the counter.
"This filthy mutt is getting us all dirty with its muddy paws," the Vampire smirked, "You should tell the owner not to let this filthy junk in here,"
The person became very still, looked the Vampire in the eye and raised an eyebrow.
"Why don't you tell it to my face?" the room went cold and still. After a few moments, the men realized who he was and started stammering out stuttered apologies. He walked forward and grabbed the two by the scruff of their necks and lifted them up.
"You know the drill," several of the regulars laughed, "What do you have to say?" he said patronizingly.
They stammered out apologies as they tried to get out of the owner's grip.
In a fraction of a second, the two vanished in a cloud of smoke.
"I'm terribly sorry about the disturbance , everybody," he bowed shallowly. The man turned to the booths, looking up at the guests "Good evening, Francois, lovely to see you again, your Vampire had been sent to your home."
Francois nodded, "Thank you Lord Evans," he chuckled as the waiter gave them goblets filled with a blood-red liquid, presumably blood.
Voldemort watched the entire encounter with great interest. He had never heard of this person, yet it's power felt almost familiar. The man disappeared through the doors and the bar went back to its previous noise level.
Francois turned to the waiters, "My favourite, I suppose?"
The rather young-looking man in front nodded, "Freshly drawn from a Spanish Muggle woman, A positive,"
The Vampire grinned, fangs gleaming in the dim lights of the place.
"And may we offer your guest any drinks?" he asked, turning to the Wizards.
Voldemort declined to no one's surprise.
"Tell me Francois, what do you know about the owner of this establishment?" he asked. The man dressed in black was intriguing. A powerful ally no doubt and his core, he hadn't felt that kind of magic in a long time. The only other he knew with that class of magic was himself.
Francois chuckled, "Lord Evans does not pick sides, he only does deals, favours, power and money. He opened this fine establishment as a safe haven for all those Dark including my kind and Fenrir's to protect them from the Ministry. The blood is fresh, the drinks are good and the safety is unparalleled," he said before licking his lips and sipping on the small goblet of blood.
Voldemort nodded. He was an interesting man, he had no doubt but something about him made the Dark Lord intrigued.
"Before you think of allying with him, Noir Evans has no agenda. He does not like scheming or planning. He shares influence and gives protection in exchange for reward. It would be best for you to leave him well alone," he gave Voldemort a stern look.
Now, the man seemed even more intriguing. He did not recognize the name as it was obviously an alias but it was still odd that he had never even heard of him. He knew of the smallest assassins and the pick-pocketing lowlifes but not him. He was definitely interested in the mystery man.
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-Alysha