Chapter Twenty: The Last Missing Pieces
He was literally holding his breath.
Marlene was at his side, and he knew Sirius was sitting somewhere in the galleries, watching him. And Lily was hunched over in the defendant’s chair, the chains still wrapped around her arms, holding her in place.
And James was holding his breath.
Lily looked at him, and he forced himself to breathe. To slowly exhale, to force the air from his lungs and then just as slowly take more oxygen in. It was a challenge, and even the slow breaths did nothing to calm his rapidly beating heart.
He took another breath.
He had never been this anxious at any other trial. Sweat was clinging to his neck, and he had to concentrate to keep his hands from clenching into fists. His fingers were stretched out, pressed flat against the desk, and he was terrified.
And it wasn’t even his life that was going to be so completely altered by this verdict.
He glanced over at Lily. He had never been this nervous before, but he had also never been this personally invested in the outcome.
He forced another breath.
“You know,” Lily whispered, raising her eyes to meet James’ gaze, “in the Muggle world, the decision to convict has to be unanimous.”
James blinked. “Really?” he asked skeptically. “Why?”
Lily rolled her eyes at him. “Because you’re changing someone’s life, James,” she answered flatly. “You’re putting them away, locking them up for years. Maybe their entire life. You want to be sure you’re doing the right thing.” She glanced away from him, towards the witches and wizards still sitting on the Wizengamot’s raised platform. “You want to make sure that they are guilty.”
Her voice was low and quiet, soft enough that only James and Marlene could hear her. James thought idly that it was probably for the best; it wouldn’t help her case if the Wizengamot could hear her insulting wizarding legal traditions.
They’d be even more inclined to find her guilty simply out of spite.
He struggled for another breath.
“There is a room,” Lily murmured. “A jurors’ room. And the jury “ the ordinary citizens picked to determine innocence or guilt “ go into that room and discuss everything. They try to come to some sort of… agreement. They have to, in a criminal trial. If they can’t agree, they can’t convict.”
James considered this. He remembered enough about the Muggle system to know that the jury was randomly selected, and he had always found that odd. Who knew what kinds of crazy people would end up on the jury? How could they trust something as important as determining innocence and guilt to random people with no legal training and no experience in this sort of matter?
But the idea of residing to a separate room and debating matters…
That was interesting.
The Wizengamot had a few minutes to think over the trial, to review the evidence, and then they would vote. In front of everyone. Without discussion or debate, without anything but the facts as they had been presented and their own beliefs.
They would vote, and that vote would either convict or absolve Lily of all charges.
He forced himself to take another breath.
“James…”
Lily was looking at him again. He wasn’t quite sure when she had started calling him James instead of Mr. Potter. He had no idea how long it had been since she had stopped thinking about him with such formality. And he couldn’t help but wonder when she had finally realized that he was different from the rest of them, that being a pureblood didn’t mean he was going to turn on her.
“Yes?” he said, prompting her to continue her thought.
“I… thank you,” Lily murmured. “I just want to thank you for… for everything. No matter how this ends up… I…” Her green eyes were filled with tears, but she blinked them away quickly and instead looked down at the chains wrapped tightly around her arms. “Thank you,” she said again.
James smiled. “You’re welcome.”
And he slowly took another breath.
Then Bones rose to his feet, and James stopped breathing entirely.
“Have the members of the Wizengamot had enough time to reach their own decision?” he asked, his black eyes sweeping over everyone. His question was met with answering nods and murmurs of assent, and he smiled coolly. “Good.” He paused, looking at the court scribe. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” the young wizard answered, his quill poised over his scroll of parchment, ready to record the outcome of the vote.
“In the matter of the trial of Lily Evans, accused of the murder of Remus Lupin, would all those in favor of conviction raise their hands?” Bones instructed, and several hands immediately flew into the air.
James frowned, frantically trying to count them. It was around half, that much was clear, but he couldn’t tell if it was more or less. He had only managed to count about two-thirds of them when the court scribe wrote the number down on his parchment and the witches and wizards in question lowered their arms.
“And would all those in favor of acquittal raise their hands,” Bones said with a growl.
The remaining wizards and witches raised their hands, and this time James could see clearly that it was more than half.
Not by much. Only a few votes. But still…
“Very well, very well,” Bones said sourly, his expression one of utmost loathing as he glared down at Lily. “Cleared of all charges. You are free to go, Evans.”
And the chains magically unwound themselves from her arms.
James found himself practically gasping for air.
The courtroom was filled with flashes of light and shouts as reporters scrambled desperately to get photographs and yelled for statements. Several reporters were surrounding Bones and other members of the Wizengamot, and over the din of several voices, James could just barely make out some of the questions being asked.
“Are you confident in the Wizengamot’s decision?”
“Do you consider this the correct ruling?”
“Do you believe Evans is innocent as she claims?”
They were suddenly surrounded on all sides. Lily had stumbled to her feet, a look of utter disbelief in her eyes, the tears that just moments before she had pushed away now sliding down her cheeks. People were moving towards her, reporters yelling out questions, jotting down notes, grabbing at her, asking for interviews.
James felt frozen.
He had won.
Lily looked incredibly bewildered and lost, as though she had no idea what to do now, and then Marlene was at her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her away from the chair, from the chains, from the Wizengamot.
“James! Come on,” Marlene snapped as she forced her way through the crowd.
“Do you think Lestrange was out to get you?” one reporter demanded, blocking their path and preventing them from leaving the room.
“If you didn’t kill Lupin, who did?” another one asked.
Those questions and the look of panic in Lily’s eyes brought James forcibly out of his bewildered thoughts, and he moved purposefully forward, placing himself between Lily and the reporters. “We have the utmost respect for the Wizengamot and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and feel confident in our belief that they will continue looking into Mr. Lupin’s tragic death,” he said.
Then he took Lily’s hand.
She smiled at him, a real smile that so rarely graced her features. He couldn’t help but smile back.
“Come on, Lily,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Several more flashes of light nearly blinded him, and he had to blink a few times to see clearly again. The reporters around him were writing furiously on their notepads, and the photographers all seemed to have their cameras aimed at James and Lily’s interlocked hands.
James felt Marlene’s hand on his shoulder and heard her whisper in his ear, “Looks like they’ll finally start running stories about your personal life that don’t have anything to do with me.”
James looked down at Lily’s hand in his own.
“I’m alright with that,” he answered.
Then he took another breath, and lead Lily out of the courtroom.
The four of them were standing in James’ office, all a little unsure what they were supposed to be doing now. For Sirius and Marlene, it was the first time either of them had really interacted with Lily. For Lily, it was the first time she had been out of custody since Remus’ death. And for James, it was the first time since the trial began that he felt like he could actually relax for a moment.
Then Sirius said, “So, we still have to figure out who actually killed Lupin and what the object he had stolen was.”
“Thanks,” James muttered. “Way to ruin the moment there, Sirius.”
“It’s not over,” Sirius said unapologetically.
“He’s right,” Lily agreed. “It’s not over. The war… Voldemort… it’s only just begun again.”
“At least we won this round,” Marlene replied. “That’s something.”
“Yeah… Merlin, I can’t believe I’m free,” Lily whispered. She looked up at James, and he felt his insides twist into knots at the expression of gratitude on her face. “I can’t believe it,” she said again.
“Well, James is quite good at what he does,” Marlene answered, but James and Lily both paid her very little attention.
Lily took a few steps towards James until she was standing right in front of him. She kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said, and started to turn away.
He caught her arm and she paused, turned back around to face him again. And without really thinking, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, his hands coming to rest on her hips. She stood completely still for a moment, and then he felt her lean into him and return the kiss.
He pulled back a moment later and said, “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” he heard Sirius grumbled under his breath. “Now I’ve gone and lost my best mate to a girl. Figures this would happen.”
Marlene laughed softly. “I’m sure you’ll find your own girl eventually, and you can snog her in the office all you like. Until then, let’s leave James and Miss Evans to… talk. We can catch up with them tomorrow.”
Lily blushed a furious red at Marlene’s pointed comment and Sirius’ responding bark of laughter, and James sent his two friends a sharp look. But he found himself now holding Lily’s hands, and he didn’t bother to let go, even as his own skin was suffused by the faint pink of embarrassment.
Sirius grinned and winked at him in response, before following Marlene from the room.
At the door, James heard him ask, “So, McKinnon… any chance you want to be that girl I’m supposedly going to find eventually?”
Marlene turned towards him and leaned in, resting her hand on the doorframe behind him. With a pretty smile, she answered softly, “Not even if you were the last man in the world, Black.”
Then they were gone, and James and Lily were alone.
James glanced back at Lily, and noticed that she was still flushed with mortification, and her eyes were downcast. She pulled her hand out of his grip and reached her fingers up to touch her lips.
This diffident version of her was so different from the one he had encountered in their initial meetings at the beginning of the trial. And while he liked the stubbornness and defiance he had seen then, he also found her sudden shyness oddly endearing.
At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t quite know where they stood now. They still had secrets they hadn’t shared with each other, and despite James’ continued attempts to prove that he was one of the good guys, he couldn’t help but feel like she was judging him against all the other purebloods she had met.
He wanted her to trust him, and he knew that, despite everything, she was a good person. One of the best he had ever met, actually.
And Frank Longbottom had been right. He’d fallen in love with her, just like everyone else did.
But unlike everyone else, he wasn’t going to leave just because things were going to be difficult.
“I think one of Voldemort’s supporters is defecting,” James said.
Lily looked at him, eyebrow raised.
“You asked me once how I learned everything about Malfoy and Voldemort and the plans from seven years ago. And I didn’t tell you then, but…” James gestured for her to sit down, and she did so, still watching him. He took his own seat behind his desk and continued, “One of Voldemort’s supporters told me. That’s how I know.”
“Who was it? What happened?” Lily asked eagerly, leaning forward.
“It was the day that Ringleton testified,” James explained. “I was frustrated with everything, so I went for a walk. I got… attacked, I guess you would say.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “I was caught entirely by surprise,” he admitted with a frown.
“But you weren’t hurt?” Lily pressed.
James opened his eyes again. “No. Just disarmed. The wizard was wearing a mask and a cloak and I couldn’t… I couldn’t be sure who it was. But he’s the one who told me everything. And I told Sirius and Marlene, and they told Dumbledore.”
“I don’t understand,” Lily murmured. “Why would someone defect but hide their identity? Why not just go to Dumbledore?”
“Maybe he didn’t think Dumbledore could keep him safe,” James answered. “Or maybe he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to defect. Or maybe… I don’t know.”
“And you have no idea who it was?”
Here James hesitated. He hadn’t even told Sirius his suspicions, and he knew that Dumbledore hadn’t, either. He was afraid of how his friend would react. Would Sirius try to reach out to Regulus? Or would he believe the worst of his brother and assume it was all a trick?
Or, more likely than either of those, would he lose his head completely and try to attack Voldemort in some misguided sense of duty to protect his younger brother?
He would trust Sirius with his life. But he also had to admit that the other wizard was reckless.
And what if he was wrong? What if it wasn’t Regulus? What if he had been completely mistaken “ although he was fairly certain that wasn’t actually the case “ and then he got Sirius’ hopes up just to dash them all over again?
Still… he wanted Lily to trust him, and how could he ask her to do that if he didn’t trust her?
“I think… I think it might have been Regulus Black.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “Have you told his brother?”
“Not yet,” James said, running a hand through his hair and messing it up. “I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know how he’ll react.”
Lily reached across the desk and took his hand. “We’ll figure something out,” she said.
“We?” James repeated with a wry grin.
Lily looked uncomfortable, but then she lifted her chin and said defiantly, “Yes. We. You and I. The trial is over but you’re still trying to help me. So doesn’t that mean we’re in this together?”
“Yes,” James agreed, “I guess it does.”
Frank was standing awkwardly in the doorway of her home, and Lily had no idea how to respond. The tension between them was thick, and as she opened her mouth to say something, anything, she found she couldn’t form any words.
Finally, she said, “Come in,” and stepped aside, allowing him to enter.
He took a few steps and then stood there, and she was struck by the odd sense of déjà vu. Remus, too, had looked uneasy and out of place when he had last visited her right before his death.
“Potter did a good job,” Frank said slowly, looking around the room. “He managed to stop Lestrange and I… I was impressed.” His gaze flicked up to Lily’s face and then just as quickly moved away. “But be careful. We all know what happens when Lestrange gets upset.”
Lily nodded, her thoughts running back to Alice. “Yes,” she murmured.
They were both silent for a moment.
“Dumbledore sent me an owl,” Frank said. “He wants to meet with me tomorrow. He said he wants to meet with Potter, Black, and McKinnon, too. Did he owl you as well?”
Lily shook her head. “No,” she answered, and Frank frowned, clearly not expecting that response. But she had no doubt that Dumbledore wanted to talk to them all about the war and Voldemort and the Order of the Phoenix, and Lily didn’t need to sit in on a conversation about that.
She already knew the basics. She had lived through this war once, after all.
She also knew that Dumbledore was waiting for her to come to him. He wasn’t going to drag her into this mess unless she was willing, because she had already suffered so much from it. She had to be the one to tell him that she was ready to fight this war, and she certainly hadn’t been ready in the past.
But she was ready now, and part of that was certainly due to James.
She let out a slow breath. She had never told Frank the details. She’d never told him that Malfoy was to become Minister of Magic, she’d never told him how much she knew about Voldemort’s plans, she’d never told him what had really happened the night Malfoy died.
Well, she’d never told anyone that particular story.
It hadn’t been that she hadn’t trusted him. If she hadn’t trusted him implicitly, she wouldn’t have gone to him that night, wouldn’t have asked him for an alibi to save her own life. Of course, it had been more than just her own life that had been at risk, but he hadn’t known that.
And Alice had paid the price.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “Frank, I… I’m sorry. I never meant for Alice to… and I never meant to hurt you, either…”
“I know,” Frank answered quietly. “I know, Lily. And what happened to Alice wasn’t… it wasn’t your fault.” He hesitated, then said slowly, “I never blamed you for that.”
Lily sighed. She knew Frank hadn’t blamed her, not really. But that hadn’t stopped her from blaming herself.
“I just wanted to keep you all safe. But now Alice and Remus…” She trailed off. “I guess I didn’t do a very good of that.”
“Lily…” Frank started and then stopped. His expression hardened, but something was wavering in his gaze. He looked uncomfortable, as though he didn’t want to have this conversation but knew that he had to, and so was determined to see it through to the end.
But Lily knew what he was going to ask, and she spared him from actually having to verbalize the question. He had spent seven years wondering, and even if she couldn’t tell him the full truth, she could at least tell him part of it.
“I can’t tell you all of what happened, Frank,” she said. “It isn’t just my secret. There are other people involved and I just… I can’t tell you. But please, you have to believe that I…it wasn’t a good thing. Killing is never a good thing. But it was… necessary. A necessary evil. I… there wasn’t… there wasn’t another way. It was self-defense. I was protecting myself and… and others.”
“Tell me you didn’t hunt him down,” Frank said quietly. “Tell me it wasn’t cold-blooded murder.”
“It wasn’t,” Lily answered immediately. “I swear to you, Frank, I didn’t plot to kill Malfoy. I didn’t.” She sagged, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. The guilt that had been her constant companion for seven years was still there, but now that she had admitted the truth “ or as much of the truth as she could “ to both James and Frank, she felt a little bit better. As though this pain was somehow a little bit easier to bear, now that she wasn’t keeping it locked tightly inside.
Still… she had killed. Even if there had been no choice. She had killed, and she had lied about it.
“Why couldn’t you just tell the truth at the trial?” Frank asked. “Why did you need the alibi?”
Lily ran a hand through her hair nervously. “I… if I had admitted to it, Lestrange would have… Frank, Malfoy was important. And I knew that, I knew how much Voldemort had resting on him. I knew that if I told people what had happened, Lestrange would find a way to… to make it seem like cold-blooded murder. And I just… I couldn’t let that happen. He would have destroyed me, and you and Alice and Remus and…” She trailed off.
There was so much more she wanted to explain, but she couldn’t.
“And whoever these other people you’re determined to protect are… Lestrange would have destroyed them, too?” Frank said.
Lily nodded. “And… well, think about it Frank. Do you really think the Wizengamot would have believed my story? You know the prejudice out there. You’ve seen it.”
Frank inclined his head in agreement. “I know. But I… I committed perjury for you. I broke the law. I’m an Auror, Lily and I… You were my friend, and I lied for you. And at the time, I did it because we were friends. I didn’t need any other reason. But now… I have to know whether or not I did the right thing. I have to know that you didn’t deserve Azkaban. And I have to know that this was the only way you could protect the innocent people involved.”
“It was. I promise you, Frank. There was no other way. I didn’t… I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want this, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“And Lily,” Frank added, “I need to know that you didn’t have anything to do with Remus’ death.”
“I didn’t.” Some part of her wanted to yell at him, to scream, to cry out. How could he ask her that? How could he possibly believe that she would do anything to harm Remus? “I didn’t,” she said again, anger seeping into her words.
But then she shook her head and felt the anger drain away because another part of her knew that Frank had no real reason to believe her. Yes, she loved Remus. But she had killed and she had lied about it, and Alice was dead now.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand… after Alice died… how much you needed revenge. After Remus… I get it now. I get what it feels like to… to want to make someone pay for what happened.”
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Frank answered.
Lily nodded. It did hurt. It felt almost unbearable. It was worse than the guilt of the last seven years and the anger at how much her life had been torn apart by other people’s prejudice. It ate away at her, filling her with fury and a desperate desire to hurt the people who had hurt her.
It wasn’t right, though. She didn’t want revenge, not really. She wanted justice.
And she could only hope that one day they would get it.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, and though she wasn’t entirely sure what she was apologizing for this time, she knew most of her apologies were for Alice.
Frank shrugged awkwardly and looked away. “She might have died anyway,” he said, apparently sensing Lily’s thoughts. “We all might have. It took me a while to realize that, but… if you hadn’t… stopped… Malfoy, if he’d taken over the Minsitry and Voldemort had come to power… we would have been in an all-out war seven years ago, Lily, and Alice and I would have been fighting it with you and Remus and Dumbledore. And we all might have died.”
Lily nodded and rubbed her eyes, brushing away the tears.
“Voldemort did it. Voldemort is responsible for all of this,” Frank continued. “And we’ll make him pay. One way or another… we’ll make him pay.”
Dumbledore glanced up warily as Alastor Moody entered his circular office. The Daily Prophet was spread out on his desk, and almost every article seemed to carry some news about the trial. He was pleased that everything had gone the way it had, pleased that Lily had avoided Azkaban once more and that more people were aware of Voldemort’s slow and steady bid for power. But this also meant that the war would soon be starting in earnest, and that worried him.
The grim expression on the venerable Auror’s face worried him, too.
He set aside the newspaper and studied his old friend. Moody had seen a lot in his lifetime. It was the case with all Aurors “ they grew too old, too quickly, constantly forced to confront the baser aspects of human nature. But Moody had been an integral part of the Order of the Phoenix, and he had seen things so much worse than the average Auror.
So for him to look so grave now…
“What happened?” Dumbledore asked sharply.
“Margaret Moon was found dead in her flat in London,” Moody said heavily. “The Muggle authorities can’t figure out how she died. They said she was perfectly healthy, just… dead. With a look of terror on her face. As though she had died of fright.”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an article torn from a newspaper. It was clearly a Muggle newspaper; the people in the photograph under the headline were not moving.
He held it out to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore took it slowly, and gazed down at the article. He had never met Mrs. Moon, had never spoken to her. He remembered her daughter vaguely, though, and his memories of Esmeralda were of a sweet, good-natured girl who deserved so much more than this.
No one deserved to have a parent murdered, but Esmie was so kind and so unassuming and so…
He pinched the bridge of his nose. She deserved better.
But Lestrange had threatened to kill her mother if she told anyone about his deal with Ringleton, and so this death was hardly unsurprising.
“Does Esmeralda Moon know? She’s probably in danger, too,” Dumbledore said.
“A couple of Aurors are with her right now,” Moody replied. “Not sure what they’ll decide to do.”
“And the Ringletons?” Dumbledore asked.
Moody hesitated, then said, “Their place was empty. Looks like they packed up and left. Good thing, too, or they would probably have been dead by now as well.”
Dumbledore looked over at Fawkes, feeling far older than he had in a very long time. “Assuming Voldemort hasn’t caught up to them yet,” he said softly. Even running might not be safe, and it was unlikely they would be able to hide from Voldemort or his followers forever.
“You lost. Twice, Rodolphus. Twice. How can we face him now?” Bellatrix snarled, fury and fear blending together in her voice. This was supposed to be their chance to prove that they were the most loyal of the Dark Lord’s followers, and yet her husband had managed to ruin everything.
Again.
The only saving grace in any of this was that Bones had lost, too. Seven years ago, the other wizard had profited from their defeat, taking the leading position on the Wizengamot, a position that should have gone to Rodolphus. But Bones, too, had been unable to secure a conviction this time around. Bones, too, was culpable in their loss.
And Bones would not win the Dark Lord’s favor.
“We shouldn’t have put Ringleton on the stand,” Bellatrix continued. “We shouldn’t…” She paused, shook her head. Her dark hair tumbled over even darker eyes, and her lips curled into a sneer. “We should have stopped that idiot girl from telling my fool cousin about what you had done.”
Rodolphus shrugged. “At least we’ve taken care of that. And we’ll get rid of the Ringletons, too.”
“Taken care of…?” Bellatrix hissed. “Who cares that the Moon girl’s mother is dead? We failed the Dark Lord.” She folded her arms over her chest, her fear written plainly on her features. “Avery did, too. And even Narcissa. All of them… they should have done better.” She trailed off for a moment, then said heavily, “We should have done better.”
“Your sister didn’t help us any,” Rodolphus muttered. “Just like at the last trial. Put her on the stand and all she does is ruin everything. Potter got the better of her.”
Bellatrix frowned. “He did,” she agreed reluctantly, hating to admit it. She might have had a begrudging respect for the younger wizard “ because the Potter family had been as pure as they come “ but they’d been blood traitors, too, and James Potter had clearly thrown his lot in with Mudbloods and half-breeds. Any respect she could have felt for him was gone, replaced by utter loathing. It was fools like him that allowed society to waste away, to become overrun by Evans and other filth.
But Potter had been good at the trial. Cissy had made one too many mistakes in that cross-examination, and Potter had used her to plant seeds of doubt. Just like he had with Avery and Ringleton.
And Longbottom had turned on them completely.
Her anger was rising rapidly, and she felt the desire to destroy something. To hex someone, to make them scream, to make them feel what she was feeling now…
Evans had gone free.
Evans had gone free.
“You lost,” she spat again, glaring at her husband.
“And the Dark Lord won’t be pleased, will he?” a new voice said mockingly.
Bellatrix whirled around, her hand dropping immediately to the wand concealed in the pockets of her robes. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the newcomer, and distaste appeared in her expression.
“What do you want, Greyback?” Rodolphus demanded fiercely, drawing his own wand and coming to stand by his wife.
Fenrir Greyback stepped further into the room, his features twisted into a cruel smirk. He was clearly enjoying their fear, and Bellatrix knew he had only come to gloat.
“What are you going to tell the Dark Lord, Lestrange?” he asked with a sneer. “Are you going to beg for his mercy or just let him kill you? I can’t imagine he will make it quick or painless.”
“The Dark Lord knows I am his most loyal servant!” Bellatrix answered shrilly, defiantly.
“Does he?” Greyback replied, his voice filled with disbelief. “Really? And this is how you prove your loyalty? By repeatedly mucking it up?”
Bellatrix glanced down ant noticed that he, too, was holding his wand tightly in one hand.
“Don’t talk to me about mucking things up,” Rodolphus snarled. “It’s filth like you, werewolf, that should be gotten rid of.”
“The Dark Lord seems to think I have some worth,” Greyback replied softly. “After all, I’m the one he tasked with following Lupin, wasn’t I? And I killed him and removed the murder weapon and that Mudblood walked right into that room and just stood there and you still failed to get her convincted.”
“You were tasked with finding what Lupin had stolen!” Bellatrix answered. “And you didn’t manage that, did you?” She felt a savage satisfaction at the brief look of trepidation in Greyback’s eyes. She wasn’t the only one who had failed the Dark Lord. He hadn’t managed to recover what Lupin had taken. He hadn’t managed to complete his task.
“And you killed him,” Rodolphus added. “You should have kept him alive when you realized that he didn’t have the object. But you killed Lupin instead…”
“He would never have told us where he had hidden it,” Greyback defended himself, but there was now definite unease in his eyes.
Bellatrix took a step forward. “The Dark Lord could have made him talk. The Dark Lord can make anyone talk. But you killed Lupin.”
“He fought back,” Greyback spat. “It wasn’t supposed to end like that. We struggled and…”
“And your orders were to recover the object,” Bellatrix interrupted. “You failed. You lost our only lead to the stolen object. And the Dark Lord wants it back, you know he does. I don’t think he will be too pleased with you.”
“I believe,” a snake-like voice hissed as a forth person appeared with an abrupt crack in the center of the room and red eyes swept over the other three, “that he is none too pleased with any of you.”
Fool Me Twice by Dawnie
Chapter Endnotes: AN: Alright, folks. The next chapter will finally reveal all of what happened the night Malfoy died and who now has the missing object that Remus had stolen. But I’d love to hear people’s guesses before then. If you have a theory, it would be awesome if you would leave it in a review.