Chapter 49
ALDER EVANS
Alder found himself in the Minister's Office when he really should have been in his bed sleeping away. But sleep had become a rare commodity for him, and so he was awake and ready when he had noticed the door to his room being forced open, and had taken out his wand the next second.
And the second the two intruders had entered the room, he had frozen them in their place.
"Rookwood and Flint," the Minister whispered as she stared at the files of the two Unspeakables who had tried to take him out in the night.
"I never thought that I would have to deal with so many traitors," Bagnold uttered in both shame and defeat, and the war had begun to take a toll on the Minister, and with every passing day and every new attack the confidence in the Ministry collapsed, and Voldemort and his men amassed more and more power.
"Well, I am not surprised," Alder countered, and the Minister seemed taken aback by those words, and he must look rather spry for someone who had just thwarted an attempt on his life.
"Well, I am surprised but not by the fact that I was attacked but by how long it took them to plan such a thing," and Rookwood and Flint were Unspeakables working for the Department of Mysteries.
"You were expecting such a thing," Bagnold realised, and he was.
"Yes," he nodded, and unlike her he was not surprised by the attack at all.
"Why? We never announced your Apprenticeship, and no one apart from a select few even knew that you were staying in the Auror Academy dorms," and yet the Rookwood and Flint had gotten their hands on the information somehow, and planned an entire attack around it.
It was a failure on the Ministry's part.
"The only way they could have known about you is if there was a mole within the DMLE itself," and Alder raised a brow.
"We both know that the DMLE has more than one mole," and Bagnold's lips thinned, though she did not deny his accusations. Until now the Ministry had planned six attacks against the Death Eaters, and yet each time it had failed.
"I have vetted that department twice, yet I have found no trace of a mole anywhere," but the failures suggested that there was a mole there nonetheless.
And if Bagnold could not trust her own DMLE, then who could she trust. Not the department of Mysteries, that much was obvious.
"I can help you deal with the mole at the DMLE," and his words caught the Minister by surprise, and he shrugged.
"I have an idea," and ever since he had first stepped into the building he knew for a fact how the information about all those operations was being leaked to the Death Eaters, but he had kept his mouth shut just so he could use it to get something back from the Minister herself.
"Who?" she asked, and Alder shook his head, as he adjusted the mask on his face, and he was still getting used to wearing one all the time, and already the edgers had begun to leave a mark on the skin, but that was the reality he now faced.
"I will be happy to give you the name, but honestly it wouldn't be the best idea to get rid of him just yet," and he had been here for some three weeks now, and had yet to participate in any operation at all.
"Why not?" and Bagnold was rather troubled with the whole affair.
"Because if you get rid of this one, Voldemort will simply find someone else to replace. It can be someone sympathetic to his cause, or someone he has put under the Imperius curse himself. In the end, he will find away back in," and Bagnodl scoffed.
"Then what are we suggesting. That I leave this 'mole' in its place and do nothing," and that was not what he was suggesting.
"Well, you make use of the informant," and now he leaned forward.
"You feed him all the information regarding the official operations, while in the meantime you establish a small but effective strike team that works independently of all the current command structures and focuses solely on bringing down Voldemort and his Death Eaters," and currently the Aurors were simply being run down with all the responsibilities. They were doing both their usual Police Work, and fighting a war at the same time.
Simply put, it was too much work.
"You want me to create a special unit," and he nodded.
"An off the books special unit. Whose existance and actions are kept a secret from everyone except for yourself, and the leader of the group," and Bagnold did not reject the idea outright.
"I have heard of similar units in the Muggle militaries," and he was surprised by her words, and it must have shown.
"Not every wizard is as oblivious to the Muggle world, as you may think," she countered, with a rare smile.
"And I believe you wish to lead this special group," and he shook his head.
"I would love to, but I have a separate role in all this," and he would love to be the leader but the entire purpose of having him here was for the Ministry to have someone capable of keeping the Dark Lord occupied.
"If we are to win this war then I must be able to keep Voldemort occupied for the rest of our forces to capture the rest of the Death Eaters. That is my role," and Bagnold knew that as well.
"And can you do that?" she asked, and it would be so easy to lie.
"As I currently am. No," he told her the truth, and saw her face shift.
"But with some help from you, I can," he countered, and she narrowed her eyes.
"What kind of help?"
"Rituals...."
0000
LUCIUS MALFOY
The world was right once more. The Dark Lord's name had become a symbol of fear, and with every passing day the Ministry grew weaker and weaker, as they failed in their promise of capturing and punishing the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.
They had tried. But in the end, no wizard apart from the Headmaster could face the might of their Lord and so all their attacks had ended up in failure. There were many within the Ministry itself who sympathised with their Lord's mission, and kept them abreft of any and all information regarding any attacks as well.
The Dark Lord had made masks mandatory during the meetings, and none knew the identity of the man standing beside them. Those of them from the old guard knew each other well, but their identities would remain a secret from the newcomers.
It was all meant to protect them from the Ministry and its claws, but in his mind it would not matter much. As long as the Dark Lord was alive, victory was assured.
Still, they did not just face opposition from the Ministry only. There were many within their own ranks who felt nervous by the rising power of their lord. They were the old guard, the ones who had once hoped to control the Dark Lord yet none of them could have fathomed the sheer extent of his might, and now as the Dark Lord's armies grew by the day they found their influence and importance vaning, which made them bitter and afraid.
"It is not right," and it pained him to see that his own father was amongst those doubters. Abraxus Malfoy had been one of the first men to support the Dark Lord, and had been the one to lead Lucius onto this road yet now age had made infirm as doubt began to creep in his heart.
"What is not right?" Lucius asked with a scoff for in his eyes the world was simply righting itself. Finally, those of them with the right blood and pedigree were being offered the respect and position they had deserved.
"Is this not what you have always wanted?" Lucius questioned, and Abraxus Malfoy shook his head.
"I did wish to see our honor and ways restored, but not at the cost of the blood of young witches and wizards," and the opposition had come mostly after the attack on the Express, and the addition of the werewolves to their cause.
"I never thought that you would hold such sympathy for blood traitors and mudbloods," Lucius mocked, and his father met his gaze.
"It is not sympathy which compels me to say this. It is tradition. Tradition that your half blood lord is making a mockery of every day," and Lucius's eyes narrowed at those words, as the skies thundered as if sensing his fear.
"Mind your words," Lucius warned his father, out of love and fear.
"You and I both know how the Dark Lord feels about this," and while the origins of Voldemort remained a mystery to many, those who had been with him since the initial days of his rise knew exactly who he was.
Now, as their movement continued to grow the Dark Lord had made it a taboo for the world to reveal his identity and heritage.
"If he finds out..."
"Let him," his father was a stubborn man.
"We were the ones who helped him become the man he is today. We!" and the old generation was so used to resting on their laurels and thought themselves too important in a rapidly shifting world.
"And now he kills our children, and lets those monsterous half breeds spill their blood! Preposterous!" and Lucius countered quickly.
"This is a war and every war has casualties," and his water chuckled.
"This is no war!" he retorted, as he sipped his wine.
"Your generation has no idea what true war is like. The Ministry has lost its balls, and is staffed by useless idiots otherwise if this had been done back in the day, all of you lot would be dead by now," and Lucius frowned.
"No one can harm us as long as the Dark Lord lives," and not a single wizard apart from Albus Dumbledore stood a chance against him.
"And that is where you are wrong," Abraxus Malfoy countered weakly, as he turned towards the window.
"It was wrong of you to kill that Black girl. Estranged or not, she was still a Black," and Lucius had not thought about that bitch in a long time.
"She humiliated me. She humiliated our family and he Dark lord and you think we should have spared her. Let her go?" and he could not believe his ears, and his father did not answer at first as he simply looked at him.
"I have known Arcturus Black for some fifty years. Of all his faults, the man holds the Black name and blood in the highest regard. Making an enemy out of him was not a good idea," and Lucius rose form the chair.
"He is an old man who cannot even control his own family. He clings to the remnants of a bygone era. The Black name means nothing today. Arcturus Black means nothing today," and the only wizard of consequence in this time and age was the Dark Lord.
"This is the Dark lord's era and all those who defy him will soon be erased or neutralised," and with that Lucius walked out of the room, growing rather tired of his father's drivel.
He could not fathom that this was the very man who had once been a staunch supporter of the Dark Lord, and yet was now filled with doubt and fear.
It was his age, he thought, and the weakness and infirmity that came with it which had dulled his mind. With the Dark Lord's protection they were all invincible. The Ministry would not dare to lay a finger on them.
Soon enough the Ministry would fall, and they would rule as Kings. And as one of his most trusted confidantes, Lucius would be heavily rewarded.
He now found himself in the library, as he stared at the gift the Dark Lord had given him, and the old diary still sat on the table, and despite the dark magic oozing out of it, Lucius had been unable to decipher its nature.
It was magical obviously, but he could not understand what it was yet every time he came near it, he felt the dark mark on his arm burn.
"What are you?" he wondered, and as that question kept running through his mind a loud sound interrupted his thoughts.
BANG!
And his heart lept in his chest, as he quickly reached for his wand, and began to walk out of the room.
"Father..." he shouted out hoping to hear an answer, yet none came.
"Father!" he shouted again, and noticed how the wards were still intact. He walked towards the dining room, and saw his father lying there on the chair, with his head titled to the side, as blood dripped down his body.
"NO!" and immediately reached for the Dark mark on his arm, but before his wand could touch the skin, a simple whisper stopped him in his tracks.
"Sectum Sempra...."
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me through my Patre 0n. Your support and patr 0nage are what make all this possible. So, drop a sub if you can. It would help me out quite a bit.
www.Patre 0n.com/Drkest
Have a fantastic day!