Chapter 439 - Third Task Ⅴ (2/2)

Wilkes never saw his attacker as he choked on his own blood and fell into the muddy ground. Breaking the wand in two, Rodolphus throws the wand a short distance away as he patiently waits for the thirty seconds to pass before Wilkes ceases to breath. Wilkes weakly paws at his throat the warmth of his body oozes out of his gaping neck.

”I am not sorry,” Rodolphus chillingly remarked in passing, ”But I needed to confirm something.”

Wilkes couldn't hear Lestrange words over his gurgling breath. Finally, with a great haggard breath that dies off as soon as it starts until at last Wilkes dies. Strangely, a black like fog escapes from his mouth to form the ancient rune that of a Hydra. The dark symbol dissipates into the mist and vanishes.

”So, it's true,” Rodolphus whispered to himself only so he could hear.

Rowan merely gaped at the body of Wilkes a short distance away. As she had seen from her vantage point the ancient rune symbol that arose in the mist. A Hydra. Is that what mother snake had meant? The unknown puppeteer was literally a Hydra in that sense?

The rustle awakens her as Rodolphus says, ”Little snake, hurry up and come out.”

Rowan warily comes out and stares at the tall, dark haired man with cold eyes. ”Crow?”

”So, you're who sparrow was referring too.”

”Likewise.”

”Makes sure to walk behind him as if you pointed the wand at him,” Rodolphus said. ”I'm going to need an alibi.”

”Understood,” Rowan said, before watching Lestrange disappear into the fog.

Doing as she is told; Rowan walks over as instructed all the while storing most of the night's events in the Prince Manor Mindscape. Making sure everything was locked down, she teleported away.

A mere minute later, Rodolphus threw red sparks into the sky and walked back to the scene of the crime. The little snake thankfully was already gone. But still the night's events severely bothered him. Wilkes was certainly no Horcrux, but neither was he in possession of himself. Muggles called such a dark art, demonic possession, and there was some truth to it. For never in his years as a wizard and in his study of the dark arts had he ever come across such a foul act.

Whoever was behind it was someone with a great deal more power than either Dumbledore or Voldemort. It was someone very dangerous who could literally become anyone. The missing cup from Bellatrix's vault had proven that. And like the ancient mythical Hydra, when one head was cut off two more would spring up in its place. But the worst part of it all, said Hydra could become anyone really.

Rodolphus quickly cleared his inner thoughts as his cold mask remained in place. Death Eaters rush in with their wands held high. Voldemort rushes at them in a smoky form as he transforms back into a man. Before Voldemort can speak, he spots the still warm corpse of Wilkes.

”Who did this?!” Voldemort hissed in fury his crimson eyes glowing malevolently in the night.

”I don't know, milord,” Rodolphus Lestrange carefully said. ”But what I do know is that Wilkes and only split up for a minute or so, when I heard the sound of a loud scuffle. I immediately fired my wand blindly in the direction of the scuffle, no doubt injuring the other party. And when I had arrived to clearing Wilkes was already dead on the ground, and his murderer long gone. I believe that someone has betrayed us or there is a spy among us as the Prince child is now longer in the marshes.”

Voldemort is furious and begins to Crucio, his Death Eaters left and right. Rodolphus is no exception as he too is found prone onto the muddy floor. Breathing hard with nostrils flaring finally Voldemort pulls back. ”All is not lost yet, Pyrite still remains.”

Rodolphus Lestrange does not ask what that meant. For he has a terrible foreboding feeling he already knows the exact answer to that question. He can only hope the little snake had not yet let her guard down. But she was clever, he'd seen her eyes filled with a cold, wary light.

Those were not the eyes of a child, but of a world weary individual willing to throw away the last of their humanity if necessary, in order to survive. Which filled him with more confidence enough to relax for the little snake was a Slytherin, and a Slytherin always found a way to survive and come out on top, no matter what the cost.

Whirling around, Voldemort says, ”Gather that which still remains. We will temporarily be relocating to Albania.” Without another word the Death Eaters march back or apparate to gather their things. They had traveling documents and bags to prepare. And the Dark Lord was not a patient man, most especially on this night of all nights.