Coup de Foudre [Fred Weasley] [6]

⚡️ Chapter 52 ⚡️

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle, "Dumbledore cornered!" He turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

"Good evening, Amycus," Dumbledore said calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. "And you've brought Alecto too... charming..."

The woman gave an angry little titter, jeering at the old man, "Think your little jokes'll help you on your deathbed then?"

"Jokes?" Dumbledore asked. "No, no, these are manners,"

"Do it," said the stranger standing nearest to Vega and Harry, a big, rangy man with matted grey hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater's robes looked uncomfortably tight.

This man had a voice like none that Vega had ever heard: a rasping bark of a voice. And she could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat, and, unmistakably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" Dumbledore asked.

"That's right," rasped the other. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am," Dumbledore said.

Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. Vega was starting to feel revolted as realisation dawned.

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore," Greyback said. "Too bad I haven't found the little Lestrange yet – where have you been hiding her?"

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now?" Dumbledore replied, ignoring his question. "This is most unusual... you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right," Fenrir Greyback responded. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," Dumbledore said. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live..."

"I didn't," Malfoy breathed. He was not looking at Fenrir; he did not seem to want to even glance at him. "I didn't know he was going to come –"

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," Greyback rasped. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out... delicious, delicious..." And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at Dumbledore. "I could do you for afters, Dumbledore,"

"No," said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking face. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly,"

Malfoy was showing less resolution than ever. He looked terrified as he stared into Dumbledore's face, which was even paler, and rather lower than usual, as he had slid so far down the rampart wall. Everyone's eyes were stuck on that pale boy.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said the lopsided man, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. "Look at him – what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," Dumbledore said. "Old age, in short... one day, perhaps, it will happen to you... if you are lucky..."

"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" yelled the Death Eater, suddenly violent. "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on, Draco, do it!"

But at that moment there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, "They've blocked the stairs – Reducto! REDUCTO!"

The sound made Vega's heart leap: It appeared that these four had not eliminated all opposition, but merely broken through the fight to the top of the tower, and, by the sound of it, created a barrier behind them that stopped people from following after –