Antonin had never been good at waiting. Patient people often got killed. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he would have to wait this time. If he worked too quickly, if he didn't let enough time pass before removing the bodies from the huge vat of sludge he'd made, they wouldn't be completely invulnerable, or they would be ( Read more... )

She didn't know why she bothered with plans. Most of the order had shown up a little before the midnight, taking their posts. She should have known that with so many family members and friends involved, everyone would have wanted to be present ( Read more... )

Walden shoved open the heavy wooden door to The Red Howler. The sleazy dive was perfectly suited to his mood - dark, smoky, and full of secrets in the shadowed corners. Best of all, in this place, everyone had their secrets, and no one wanted to share. They all knew to leave him alone; even the vampires and werewolves that frequented this place ( Read more... )

Antonin smiled to himself. He dusted his hands off on a nearby rag, and then realized that he had just used the dead Muggle's shirt to wipe his hands clean of that very same Muggle's blood. How ironic was that? A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it, but he quickly got himself back under control. He needed to finish this soon. He ( Read more... )

In an exciting twist in our history, today all the League players will be on the pitch, fighting not for victory but to raise money for the victims of random crimes ( Read more... )

It was cool and pleasant in the trees after suffering through the heat of a Hogsmeade afternoon. Rita had not wanted to go into the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head, though there were surely valuable sources about the Hogwarts scandals in both those establishments; Rosmerta hadn't been acting quite like herself lately, evading Rita's friendly ( Read more... )

It wasn't until after they'd left the Dark Lord's presence and retreated to one of the staircases that it occurred to Walden that he hadn't the slightest idea where the damned werewolf would be if he wasn't still in or around Azkaban. Thankfully, Dolohov had ( Read more... )

In the main "throne room" which had once been a ballroom of this long deserted manor house, Voldemort was poring over maps, spread out on a huge dining table. Using his wand to sweep over the maps his face was angry, his eyes flaring red ( Read more... )

Mulciber takes control of the spell and Greyback feels himself compressed and squeeezed through an impossible space. He hates Apparition ( Read more... )

Dolohov sits on the floor, facing his cell door and waits for what he thinks will be his first meal of the day. Of course, he can’t be certain since food arrives at fairly regular intervals and he has neither clock nor watch. He isn’t even one of the fortunate prisoners with a window. He sleeps when he is tired and awakens when he is not. He no ( Read more... )