Chapter 276 - Calling in a Debt (1/2)
Following right after, Reginald Prince returned to the front of the tent to collect the body of his wife. At the front of the tent, Druella Black is being held up by Orion Black, while she blankly eyes her cousin and his wife weeping over their dead son. Alphard Black had wrapped an arm around his niece, Narcissa, and her new husband, Lucius Malfoy. At any other point in time, the purebloods would have shaken off and chided Alphard for such a public display of affection, and yet, both Lucius and Narcissa remained content at being so gently held in Alphard's arms.
With a soft cough, Reginald garners their bewildered attention. ”We are all in shock, but the funeral arrangements must be made. Alphard, I believe you are in the best position to escort your family members to Malfoy manor if not to another secure home.”
Reginald paused and gazed firmly at the young Lucius Malfoy. ”Lucius,” Reginald slowly instructed. ”You are the last of the Malfoy's and the current head. It is your solemn duty to prepare the last rites for your father.” Lucius let's out a choked sob as he tried not to start weeping again.
Reginald's gaze softens as he continues, ”Your father, Abraxas cared for you enough to choose you, Lucius, his son over that of his own life. Do not let his sacrifice be in vain.”
Lucius stiffens his back and tries to summon a bit of his usual arrogance into play as he removes Alphard's hand from his shoulder. ”Malfoy manor is secure, Father-,” Lucius paused and took a deep breath to steady himself. ”Father made sure that the wards couldn't be broken again. The Malfoy manor is safe.”
Reginald nodded briskly at Lucius, who shouted, ”Dobby!”
Instantly a sniffling creature with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis bulbs appeared. The house elf was wearing nothing but an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg-holes as the house elf loudly wept, ”Master is dead!”
”I know, Dobby,” Lucius replied unexpectedly rather gently. ”Take my father's body to the dungeon to prepare his body for the funeral.”
”Yes, Master! Dobby will not fail!” Dobby vowed, before apparating away with the body of Abraxas Malfoy in tow.
Lucius Malfoy nodded his quiet thanks to Reginald, before departing with his newly wedded wife, and the remaining Black's.
Reginald paused to stare at the figure of his beloved Sirsa that appeared to merely be sound asleep. Clearing his throat, he finally says, ”Tadbey.”
A loud crack is heard as Tadbey instantly appears wearing his usual crisp blue overalls and a white ironed shirt. Tadbey's eyes are solemn from behind his spectacles as he says, ”I am sorry for your loss, Master.”
”As am I, Tadbey,” Reginald softly mumbled. ”As am I.”
Tadbey does not speak further as he gently places his hand hands onto the still figure of Sirsa. But before he can apparate away, Tadbey asks, ”Miss Georgine and the children are awaiting your return, Master. Shall I inform them of your imminent arrival?”
”I will be returning later, I still have some business to finish,” Reginald replied, before turning away from Tadbey apparating away. He instantly apparated away as well to a certain destination in mind.
It was still rather early in the afternoon and rather warm when a tall, slender silver-haired man appeared on the corner of the sidewalk in billowing robes. The muggle crowd peeked at the stern figure and sent wary and curious glances in the strange figure's direction. However, the stern man in robes seemed to not be bothered by the glances and kept marching on his way towards a pub at the edge of town.
The Monarch pub is full as Reginald entered the smoke-filled pub for the bartender at the bar to gape in surprise as the glass in his hand shattered onto the ground. Everyone's attention naturally gravitates to the figure standing in the doorway as the bartender was never shocked. Nor much less in living memory of any customer had the bartender ever dropped a glass mug. The man standing in the doorway is tall and lean with sharp cheekbones and rage-filled eyes that screamed instant death.
Instantly eyes are hastily averted as the figure the doorways matter-of-factly proclaims, ”The pub is closing early this afternoon. Get out.”
There is a sudden scramble for the door as even the most foolish of wizards didn't argue with a wizard with that kind of bloodthirsty aura. But more importantly, they all understood that a single sentence translated into, ”I'm not in a good mood right now. Get out, before I pull the entrails out of your stomachs and use them for divination.”
”You've gotten clumsy, Bertram,” Reginald idly commented, before making his way to the back booth of the pub.
Two burly wizards try to step into his way, when Reginald says, ”If you don't want to be scraping your watchdogs off the floor, Sanderson, call them off. I have a legendary trigger temper and I don't recommend, I be pushed today of all days.”
”Hyde and Floyd, step aside,” Sanderson said through narrowed yellow eyes. ”He means what he says. He'd slit your throats sooner than either of you could even count to three.” The two burly wizards give Reginald a dirty look, before reluctantly stepping aside.
”What brings you around, Reginald Prince?” Sanderson asked as took a swig of his cold pint of beer.
”Sanguis Enim Sanguis,” Reginald hissed causing Sanderson to stiffen as did Bertram at the bar.
”Prince, I thought we'd put that whole nasty business behind us ages ago?” Sanderson coldly said as his wolfish yellow eyes glinted dangerously.