Down in a well-sized English village of Godric's Hollow past the little lane that curves left is the heart of the village set in the small-town square. There are several shops, a post office, a pub, and even a little church whose stained-glass windows glowing jewel-bright in the sunlight. Many of the villagers are up and wandering about since it is the weekend and there is no work to be done on the morrow.
Past the graveyard with the kissing that lays open for visitors, there on the edge of the woods sits a tall, thin, dark-haired wizard with gaunt cheeks. Rodolphus Lestrange carefully tends to his wound as ice, cold dark eyes are filled with satisfaction. His plan had worked, and the Dark Lord had been successfully poisoned.
A loud pop causes Rodolphus Lestrange to reflexively reach for his wand. He does not quite lower his wand as he sees the tall figure of Aberforth Dumbledore. Abeforth's blue eyes blazed behind his spectacles. His long, stringy, wiry hair and beard are neatly trimmed lending him an air of respectability within reason.
Grabbing Rodolphus Lestrange by the collar, Aberforth pulled the slender wizard to his feet. "Why didn't you speak clearly, Crow? There are children dead!" He violently shook Rodolphus Lestrange by the collar.
"When would I have time to send such a detailed message, Capricorn?" Rodolphus Lestrange coldly answered digging his wand into the neck of Aberforth. "Was it when I was at the warded headquarters of the Dark Lord or perchance when I was surrounded by giants? I sent what I felt was safe enough to write without giving myself utterly away."
"Three measly words," Aberforth hissed. "Patronus, Runcorn, redirect."
"And those three measly words as you say conveyed my intentions, did they not?"
Aberforth reluctantly releases the collar of Rodolphus Lestrange, who returns to treat his injury. Speaking through clenched teeth, Aberforth says, "Hogs Head Inn came under attack, and I only had enough time to save my goats, before taking cover. I'll have to rebuild more than half of the inn after this!"
"You survived," Rodolphus Lestrange calmly replied, "There is no need to thank me."
The brilliant blue eyes of Aberforth coldly glare at Rodolphus Lestrange. "I did, but what of the children!"
"Casualties of war," Rodolphus Lestrange matter-of-factly concluded as he finished tending to his wound. He straightened up at seeing the hands of Aberforth clench tightly into a fist. He knew well enough that Aberforth could throw a mean punch.
Aberforth stares at Rodolphus Lestrange in cold, blazing fury recalling the loss of Ariana and how it still pained him to this day. "Your message indicated that Runcorn had devised a method to redirect the Ministry of Magic which I presume included the Wizengamont and the Aurors?"
"That is correct."
"Then how did you know my patronus would be able to reach Albus even in the middle of the Wizengamot?" Aberforth grimly asked with some measure of genuine curiosity.
"The Ministry of Magic is warded against powerful magic, especially dark magic," Rodolphus Lestrange plainly answered. "However, a patronus would never be warded against as the spell cannot cause bodily harm and is often believed to represent the purity of a soul."
Rodolphus Lestrange paused to stare Aberforth straight in the eye. "And Albus Dumbledore will never fail to trust the patronus of his brother."
There is a moment of silence as Aberforth contemplates the statement unable to deny the truth of the matter. Albus would never hesitate to trust in his patronus just as Aberforth would never hesitate to trust in Albus' (even if admittedly it could be rather grudgingly at times). And not that Aberforth would ever admit it out loud, but he had begun to trust in Albus again.
"We have not much time, Capricorn," Rodolphus Lestrange pointedly reminded Aberforth. "I cannot risk tarrying much longer. The Aurors will arrive soon or are already there, and the Dark Lord will be forced to retreat. And being late will only call attention to me as the Dark Lord will become suspicious of the reason behind my tardiness."
Remembering there is much to discuss, Aberforth collects himself. "In your last message, you mentioned Riddle had formed an alliance with the Acolytes," he said the last word with great distaste. "What are the terms, Crow?"
"An attempt to free Grindelwald," Rodolphus Lestrange solemnly answered.
Aberforth's face twists with old hatred and strong emotions. His fists clench into fists again as his body physically shakes from old rage. Trying to control himself, he grinds his teeth together and forces his hands to relax. "Was there anything else?"
"Not in a strict sense, the attempt is a strict requirement for the consideration of an alliance between the two," Rodolphus Lestrange explained. "However, the only matter to note is the blood pact between Reginald Prince and the Dark Lord. The two cannot physically harm each other."
"The old Prince?" Aberforth eyes widened in startlement. "What was the old Prince doing in attendance!?"
"I am not purview to such knowledge," Rodolphus Lestrange drily responded. "Pure speculation, mind you, but if I were to hazard a guess, the old Prince was openly recruited by Grindelwald. However, the old Prince must have declined to join Grindelwald's cause as there are no accounts of Prince being an Acolyte."
Aberforth's face relaxes just a smidgeon, before turning hard again. "Even if that is the case, why the blood pact? The Acolytes should not have logically made such a request."
"You forget, Capricorn," Rodolphus Lestrange clicked his tongue in a disappointed fashion. "The old Prince's wife, Sirsa perished at the Malfoy wedding and the old Prince has sworn Sanguis Enim Sanguis (Blood for blood, the debt must be repaid)."
Aberforth showed a trace of grim satisfaction. "Then the old Prince seeks to take Riddle's head?"
"Indeed, but his hands are tied up at the moment."
Aberforth snorted loudly, "That never stopped, Grindelwald," he murmured under his breath. "We both know that a blood pact can always be worked around," he drily remarked. "And a blood pact does not exclude the death of the other party at the hands of another."
"Naturally," Rodolphus Lestrange agreed. "That is exactly why the Dark Lord sought to kill the grandchildren of the old Prince at Hogsmeade specifically the heir, Severus Prince."
Aberforth frowns and the worry lines on his face deepen. "The child is alive; I would know otherwise." Indeed, as the Secret Keeper, he would feel when the child died as the main purpose of the Ring of Shadows is to keep the child's secret. The Fidelius Charm would naturally break, but it had not, not yet.
"From your expression, the little snake must still be alive," Rodolphus Lestrange reasonably concluded. "At least that is one small measure of comfort. Although-."
"Although, what?" Aberforth sharply asked.
"There is something that I have been meaning to ask," Rodolphus Lestrange slowly said, "are you certain that the little snake does not possess other talents as well?"
"Why do you ask?!"
"It is merely intuition speaking," Rodolphus Lestrange admitted. "However, I am certain that the little snake holds more secrets. And though she is the descendant of Merlin, we cannot forget that she possesses three of the Hogwarts founders. I would suspect that with the combination of many powerful bloodlines more abilities will awaken as shown with little snake's farseer ability."
Aberforth's face is solemn in contemplation. "You suspect that the child may be a parselmouth as well?"
"Yes," Rodolphus Lestrange said without hesitation. "Little snake must have hidden her ability to keep unwanted attention from herself. However, sooner or later the ability is bound to come out."
"The Prince family has openly revealed that they are the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, there is no reason for the child to continue to maintain her ability hidden," Aberforth disagreed.
"You forget, Riddle," Rodolphus Lestrange hinted strongly. "And female parselmouth's breed true."
Aberforth's eyes widen and contort in revulsion and horror. "No!" He gasped, before running a trembling hand through his neatly trimmed gray beard. His blue eyes are solemn behind his spectacles darting desperately in thought.
Aberforth's hand drops to his side, and he deeply sighs. Changing the subject, he gruffly asks, "Have you found anything regarding Grindelwald's experiments or in conjunction with Credence Barebone during his stay at Numengard?" He revealed nothing when he said the name of his son.
Rodolphus Lestrange's dark, icy eyes are solemn. "Grindelwald was a wizard of many talents," he carefully replied, "including necromancy. His interests were often varied and a few only in brief passing."
"Creedence Barebone although an obscurus was a useful tool for a time, but the Acolytes do not speak further on the subject. I cannot say if it is out of disinterest or to continue to protect the secrets of Grindelwald," Rodolphus Lestrange's murmured before briefly pausing and carefully choosing his following words. "Grindelwald desired to see a better world where wizards and witches lived openly and freely. However, an obscurus is difficult to control, it is unlikely Grindelwald would have continued to pursue this particular interest."
Aberforth face relaxes the slightest tinge, before briskly nodding his head at Rodolphus Lestrange. "We have tarried long enough. It is time, Crow. Send word when it is safe again."
Rodolphus Lestrange's face once more becomes cold preparing his mind and soul to face the Dark Lord. Turning away, a loud crack is heard as Rodolphus Lestrange apparated away leaving Aberforth alone gazing at the nearby cemetery of Godric's Hollow. Turning away, soon after Aberforth vanishes leaving the inhabitants of Godric's Hollow none the wiser.