There's a legion that never was Date: Thursday, 4 December, 2001 Time: Night Characters: Bellatrix Black and Arnold Klavier Location: Little Eaton
Stars weren't entirely reliable when it came to tracking the future. Well, they were, but it was quite a deal to ask of one sky to reveal all truth. Despite their shortcomings, it was impossible not to find their presence soothing. Year ago, Death Eaters had fancied cloud cover for their deeds. It was a foolish preference, their actions weren't concealed from the stars. Clear, winter nights made the stars seem unnaturally bright, the air between the earth and the sky crisp and open. Standing under the shadows of a large tree stood two cloaked figures. The man had his own hood almost completely drawn, which seemed as reckless as it was impractical.
"And the group... who will doing the actual attack, they're not with us?" he asked. He sounded like he'd spent the past twenty minutes trying to keep the question in.
"No," was the curt response from the voluminous hood, shifting slightly as the gaze hidden beneath it moved from the sky to scan the nearby hills.
It was tedious, to pull at threads here and there, to have each string wrapped around her own fingers, but it was a matter of trust. She trusted no one's judgment but her own. The fledgling... ugh, Death Eaters- her mind still balked just a bit, the offense of the Dark Lord's pedigree still too close to the chest to be borne well. Besides, they seemed more like little children play games than what the real Death Eaters had been.
"But one of them," he meant one of the targets, "is a pureblood," the caution was reluctantly given through a taut attempt at a casual expression.
Lips parted in a predatory smile. Her teeth flashed almost gleaming as she spoke, her mouth the only part of her face not concealed by shadow. "The blood might be pure, but his faith left something to be desired." Such ridiculous excused had to be offered sometimes. "Sacrifices must be made, and Wolsey made himself... expendable."
He didn't need to understand, and by now he knew if she wasn't interested in telling him she'd start talking in riddling circles.
Why couldn't he just be silent and enjoy what was coming? The way the air would fill with tension, the way soon-to-be victims could sense something, some sense of cool warning teasing at their skin. And stupid, trusting, ignorant, fools- their fears would be dampened by some naive belief that there was something out there vested in their well-being, that would protect them from harm. Did people truly believe the Ministry could-
"But madam, I don't quite understand- these targets seem too random to be strategic, the other mudblood filth can't be-"
"Comprehension is not a requisite of obedience," she snarled. Merlin's blood, it was like he was trying to irritate her. Though he couldn't see the roll of her eyes, he could hear her annoyed sigh before she said, "I've not yet steered you wrong. It is in your best interest to know no more than you do. Now be silent. You're ruining it."
At last, he fell silent. His gaze turned from the woman whose name he still did not know, allowing his attention to focus on the two witches and two wizards some forty yards away. In less than two minutes the four would be intercepted. All there was to do was wait. Wait, wait, wait. It seemed like that was all there was to do these days. But it wasn't safe, not yet, for her to properly dirty her own hands. Not for this.