Near the little-known muggle town by the name of Sharamourn, there is an old manor that overlooked the small village down below. A tall, slender wizard with icy dark eyes appears on the path leading to the Gibbons manor. Rodolphus Lestrange pauses to pat his robes and finds the bottle gone. He did not recall how the bottle disappeared, but that was no matter. He understood that he had erased his own memory to prevent the Dark Lord or anyone else from learning more. He knew what his intentions had been, and his petition must have been accepted for the bottle was gone from his pocket. And that was more than ample sufficient proof for him to know what had occurred.
A faint flicker of a smile appears on his face, before vanishing. Rodolphus begins the climb up the path to the Gibbons manor. The dark manor is surrounded by thorny leafless overgrown bushes covered in patches of snow. Briskly he makes his way up the winding path and past the cold, metal gates and the ancient, decaying trees. The air is cold carrying the faint scent of je ne sais quoi. It was a stark reminder of the graveyard that lay behind the ancient manor filled with recent rotting corpses from Primus Wilkes and of the traitor, Empusa Snyde, (without her head).
There are no guards at the door causing Rodolphus to shake his head in disapproval, before entering Gibbons Manor and making his way into the great hall. The Death Eaters in residence are all busy with some assigned task by the Dark Lord. Antonin Dolohov was notably missing on an errand to fulfill for the Dark Lord. No one knew the details of the errand except for Dolohov and Lord Voldemort. However, whatever the details of the task had been, Dolohov did not seem opposed to fulfilling the task.
The hall suddenly goes quiet as the various Death Eaters freeze and hastily move to the edge of the walls. A soft is heard echoing down the hallway to reveal a large, slithering figure emerging from the shadows. A green serpent with a flat viper's head emerges into the light, Nagini, the Dark Lord's pet. The serpent had diamond patterns on its flesh and was as thick as a man's thigh, and over twelve feet long.
The incredibly poisonous and deadly serpent, Nagini was the Dark Lord's eyes and ears, so to speak. None of the Death Eaters allowed for even a slip-of-the-tongue to occur lest word reached back to their newly returned Master. Although the Dark Lord had shown himself to be far more collected ever since his return, he had become far more ruthless than before. They all remembered the torturous death of Empusa Snyde at the hands of Dolohov that still haunted the nightmares of many.
Nagini flicked her tongue at spotting a tall, slender wizard with icy dark eyes. It was the wizard that scented of fiery brimstone and frigid ice so cold that it sent a shiver crawling across her flesh. It was this wizard who caused her skin to crawl, ready to coil and spring forward to attack at the slightest provocation. However, her kin trusted the brimstone, ice-scented wizard. And no matter what she thought, the wizard had yet to prove treacherous to her kin. Still, she would remain watchful lest the wizard turns on her kin.
Nagini and Rodolphus eye each other, while the Death Eaters pressed tightly against the walls, trying not to breathe nor move lest they draw the attention of either of the very dangerous figures before them. The crimson serpent eye figure of Lord Voldemort emerges from within the inner Great Hall clad in billowing dark robes.
"Nagini," Voldemort gently chastised the serpent who hissed threateningly at Rodolphus Lestrange, before slithering down the hall away from the crowd. Nagini had a task to do and she must continue to keep an eye on the wizard with the filthy scent. It had been a solemn request of her kin and she would fulfill her duty.
The large serpent slithers away impossibly fast considering the bulk of Nagini. The Death Eaters slowly exhale in relief and bow towards their Master, before hurrying away to fulfill their tasks. The outer Great Hall is empty within a moment leaving only the two wizards behind.
"Come," Voldemort ordered and lead the way into the inner Great Hall. There is a marble throne once more erected in the center of the inner Great Hall for the Dark Lord to rest and command his loyal followers from. Not taking a seat at his throne, he walks past it, before coming to a halt at one of the windows.
Voldemort clasps his long pale, spiderlike hands behind his back as he stares out of the windows onto the peaceful sleepy, snow-covered muggle village down below. His reflection is faintly reflected in the windows and as is that of Rodolphus Lestrange, who remains standing behind him some distance away.
With his back still turned to Rodolphus Lestrange, Voldemort says, "What do you have to report, Lestrange?"
Rodolphus barely tilts his head as usual, before replying, "My mother-in-law, Druella Black was kind enough to speak favorably on my behalf and petition to Orion Black to permit my accessing Bellatrix's dowry vaults. I was permitted with the strict restriction to only retrieve the object that had been entrusted to Bellatrix."
"And?" Voldemort impatiently interjected as his crimson eyes turned away from the peaceful snowy scenery before him.
"The cup was not there, Dark Lord," Rodolphus confessed honestly. "I found traces of it having been housed there before, but nothing more. If the cup must have been taken and removed prior to Bellatrix's death as Bellatrix was the last visitor to enter her dowry vaults."
Voldemort does not give Rodolphus Lestrange. any warning without warning or any verbal casting, he wordlessly and windlessly cast Legilimency upon Lestrange. Legilimency was one of Voldemort's many gifts in magic, but he truly was a talented Legilimens. There were few in existence that were his peer as a Legilimens except for one, Albus Dumbledore.
Rodolphus stumbled to his knees from the violent force as Voldemort carelessly tore through his mind impatiently searching for the memory. Voldemort eagerly found the memory and relived it, before brusquely emerging from Lestrange's mind. Rodolphus lets out a pained pant but manages to struggle to his feet despite his mind feeling as if it had been brutally torn open and violated (which it had). He shoves aside the feelings of anger and relief and instead concentrates on the sole feeling of agony racing through his head. For if the Dark Lord decided to attempt again, he could not allow for the Dark Lord to feel any of his true emotions.
A surge of fury whirls inside him threatening to fill his mind with a mindless fog of rage. Voldemort's snake-like nostrils flare in fury as his pointed blue talon-like nails dig into the flesh nearly drawing blood. Feeling his nails nearly drawing blood, Voldemort forces his long, pale spider-like fingers open like a spider hungrily unfurling its fangs before prey.
"There was no other visitor, Lestrange?" Voldemort snapped as he glared at Lestrange with barely contained anger.
"There was none, Milord," Rodolphus replied, before feeling something wet dripping down his nose. Perplexed, he presses the back of his fingers to his nose and looks down only to find dark ruby droplets on the back of his hand. Frowning, he wipes the blood with the robe of his sleeve. It would seem the Dark Lord had been as violent as usual.
Voldemort falls into solemn contemplation, while Rodolphus retrieves his wand from the folds of his robes. "Episkey," he murmured out loud having cast a small healing spell on his person to stop the nosebleed. He would not permit for even a single drop of blood to fall into his enemy's hands. There was no telling what evil could be wrought against him.
Voldemort does not comment on Lestrange's actions to heal himself nor much less apologize for his violent course of actions. "And what of the prophecy?" Voldemort asked without pause nor guilt.
"The spy continues to work diligently on acquiring information," Rodolphus reported keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the ground to control the glimpses of anger clearly visible in his gaze. He buried his anger and focused instead on the still painful pulsing sensation of his mind. It felt as though his mind was bleeding and torn after a savage animal attack.
"I demand progress, Lestrange," Voldemort coldly warned with a tad of impatience flashing through his crimson serpent eyes.
"The prophecy shall be acquired, Dark Lord," Rodolphus carefully replied without promising a time frame nor anything else.
Annoyed Voldemort at the neutral roughly dismisses Rodolphus with a gesture of his hand and returns to gazing out of the window with a pensive, cold expression. Rodolphus barely tilts his head at Voldemort, before turning away on his heels. Without further ado, he escapes from the inner great hall and makes his way to personal quarters to take a pain-relief potion for his fierce headache. He could not afford to being taken advantage while in a weakened state, he had too much at stake.