Chapter 178 - Hook, Line, and Sinker Ⅳ (2/2)
Rabastan Lestrange, the hero of the evening was personally allowed to remain at Lord Voldemort's side in triumph, while the other four Death Eater's part of the attack are permitted to walk closely behind them. But strangely enough, he found that he was not as happy as he thought he would be. With an unknown emotion twisting feeling his chest, he recalled the image of the dying Auror in his mind. Hardening his heart, he quickly concluded it was merely nerves as it was his first time. The unease would quickly fade away that was all there was to it.
*
Like some nights before, the Monarch was closed to the general public. An old weathered man with neat cut white hair and a light sweater sits at the bar instead of his usual place at the back of the pub. ”Another one, Sanderson?” Asked the lean bartender, Bertram.
”No, I've not yet finished my beer,” Sanderson mused as he gazed at the liquid still found at the bottom of his mug.
Suddenly, the front doors burst open as two burly figures marched in. ”They took the bait boss,” said the smarter of the two thugs, Floyd.
”I thought they would,” Sanderson said as a slow, sharp wolfish smile appeared on his face.
”And they killed, Auror Vinovich,” breathlessly interrupted the other brawny wizard known as, Hyde. ”It'll be all over the morning papers tomorrow. The ministry and the masses will all be baying for their heads.”
”Good,” Sanderson said as he downed the rest of his beer. ”Another please, Bertram.” Bertram soundlessly places another ice-cold beer before him as Sanderson lovingly traces the rim with his finger. ”I do love it when a plan comes together. But especially, when an opponent uses the strung-out rope to hang themselves. It makes things so much easier.”
Hyde and Floyd happily march back outside to get more information leaving only the bartender, Bertram and Sanderson alone in the bar. ”You're not happy with the results, why old friend?” Sanderson finally said at seeing the bartender wipe the same spot on the mug twice now.
”I feel as though we still played into their hands,” Bertram admitted. ”They wanted attention and power and now they have it. They'll be all over the papers tomorrow.”
”Yes, but now we have a lead to follow to the snakes that killed my cousin!” Sanderson hissed. ”And when I find their nest, I'll crush it!” The mug in his arms burst into pieces showering them both with glass and beer.
Wet and a bit sheepish, Sanderson says, ”I don't suppose you'll put it on the tab for old times' sake, Bertram?”
”NO!” Bertram growled as he proceeded to dry himself and wipe himself clean. ”I'll be sending the bill home.”
”Bertram, please,” Sanderson suddenly pleaded. ”Clarice will not be happy at all!”
”You blew up my mug!” Bertram hissed back.
”I'll buy you a whole box of them!”
”It was a one of kind!”
”Nonsense, I know for a fact that you bought it at some pawn shop!”
”Exactly.”
There is a long pause of silence as Sanderson opens his mouth to speak, but a rather pointed glare from Bertram shuts him up. Rather gloomily he gets up from the bar to head home like a beaten dog. Because that was exactly what was waiting for him at home. A stern beating.