Ruse

In the small village by the name of Bitterweed, the night is pitch black under the empty gaze of the new moon. The clouds have yet to condense, but slowly they gather and hint at the possibility of fog. In the distance, the village lights can dimly be seen, the village inhabitants slowly go to bed one by one until eventually all lights are finally doused throughout the muggle village.

At the edge of the small village sits a rather large, elegant, thatched cottage it is dark except for the light of a small lantern set on the ground. Despite the autumn chill and the hour, an apprentice is hard at work on the grounds surrounding the thatched cottage. The sleeves of Wilfredius's coat are rolled up to his elbows as his strawberry hair flocks over his freckled sweaty face. The pale young wizard lets out a deep breath and sets his hoe down. Glancing at the ground one last time, he lets out a satisfied expression at seeing the ground appear to be smooth. With a tired grunt, he bends down to retrieve his lantern, before walking up the path leading back to the cottage.

The door opens before he arrives as the sharp and impatient voice of his master snaps at him. "Wilfriedius, douse that lantern immediately!"

"Yes, sir!" Wilfriedius obediently answered and muttered the incantation as the lantern went out plunging them into darkness. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust before he sees just the faintest of candlelight flickering from within the cottage. It was almost nonexistent against the darkness, but still, the light bravely endeavored to shine amidst the growing darkness.

Wilfredius's master steps aside to allow the sweaty figure of his apprentice inside the cottage. Wilfredius thankfully enters the cottage and sets the hoe inside the closet nearest to the door. Removing an embroidered handkerchief made by his mother, Wilfredius turns to face Master Belby. "Will that be all, sir?" He asked as he dried the sweat from his face and wiped his face clean as best as he could.

"For the moment," answered the cool voice of the Damocles Belby. The normally sharply dressed potion master in chartreuse-colored robes is dressed rather simply that evening in dark robes that seem to blend seamlessly into the night shadows. However, after a moment, he adds, "Thank you, Wilfredius."

Wilfredius's freckled face brightens up as he squeezes the slightly damp handkerchief in his hand. "It is my pleasure, sir!" He genuinely beamed at his master, before putting his hankie away.

The third figure in the cottage shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows beside the hearth that of Auror Percius Clements. The once round-faced wizard is rather slim with sorrow-filled eyes that never truly went away after the death of his partner, Sara Vinovich. However, tonight there is a rather steady, resolute determination that glints in the depths of his eyes.

"It is time, Belby," Percius said, earning a nod from the dower potions master.

"It is time, Wilfredius, you know what to do," Damocles decisively ordered.

"Yes, Master!" Wilfredius stammered as his face paled causing his freckles to stand out even more. He hesitantly steps forward and paused at the door.

"Sir, are you certain that all shall be well? I can stay and help," Wilfredius genuinely offered with hopeful eyes.

"You have your task to perform and I have mine," Damocles firmly retorted leaving no room for protests.

"Obey your master, Wilfredius," Percius interjected with the faintest hint of fondness heard in the depths of his voice.

"Yes, sir," Wilfredius dimly replied with head downtrodden, before heading out the door, and making his way down the cottage path and past the fence. From inside the cottage, the two wizards watch him cross past the wards, before finally apparating in the distance.

The figure of Damocles Belby turns to the figure of Percius Clements with a rather concerned expression on his face. "Are you certain that you will not regret this Belby?" Said the figure of Damocles Belby.

"That time has long come and gone, Auror Clements," crisply answered the figure of Percius Clements as he crossed his arms in his usual fashion over his chest.

The figure of Damocles Belby sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I am doing this," he murmured to himself. "Polyjuice, what in Merlin's name was I thinking?"

The figure of Percius Clements snorts derisively at the polyjuiced Auror's actions. "Auror's," he grumbled to himself, before turning his gaze towards the darkened path.

The two polyjuiced wizards, polyjuiced as each other fall silent with the only sound heard from the ticking clock on the mantelpiece. The night only becomes darker until at long last in the distance the faintest echoing, popping sound can be heard in the quiet night. "They are here," said the figure of Damocles Belby.

"Yes, they are," the figure of Percius Clements flatly said in agreement.

The figure of Damocles Belby begins to turn towards the other wizard, when suddenly the soft, but decisive voice of Percius Clements says, "Petrifius Totalus!"

The figure of Damocles Belby becomes immovable and falls onto the cottage wooden floor with a painful thump. The figure of Percius Clements steps closer to him and takes his wand from Damocles Belby's pocket and slips the wand in his coat into the now empty pocket of Damocles Belby. Seeing the stunned, and angry gaze of the stunned figure of Damocles Belby laying prone on the ground, the figure of Percius Clements begins to speak. "You are angry, and feel betrayed, but more than anything else you are worried and concerned at my actions, isn't that right, Auror Clements?"

The petrified figure of Damocles Belby only glares more with confusion abundantly clear in the depths of his eyes. "I suppose I ought to explain myself, Auror Clements," murmured the figure of Percius Clements, "but we are out of time and my enemies will soon be at the door."

Removing a wrinkled sock from his pocket, Percius Clements stuffs the sock alongside the wand in the coat pocket of Damocles Belby. "The portkey will activate itself in a minute, Auror Clements. After which, you will be teleported to a safe location. Wilfredius knows not to undo the curse and release you until exactly three minutes have passed. By now he will have already sent word to the Ministry of Magic, and you will be able to safely apparate back to the cottage to join the battle."

The polyjuiced figure of Damocles Belby valiantly tries to break the curse but is unable to as he glares at the polyjuiced figure of Percius Clements. The polyjuiced Damocles Belby's expression stiffens as he recognizes the countenance of the polyjuiced Pericus Clements. It was the same gaze that his partner, Sara Vinovich, and his dear friend, Alphard Black had possessed before their deaths. And now yet again that dammed, resigned expression appeared before on the polyjuiced body of Damocles Belby that appeared as that of his own, Percius Clements. Potions Master Damocles Belby had never intended to leave his cottage alive; it had been his plan all along!

The polyjuiced figure of Percius Clements ignores the scathing gaze of the petrified figure of Damocles Belby laying on the ground that. Staring out the window, the polyjuiced figure of Percius Clements sees more shadows appearing in the distance with a soft popping sound as the Death Eaters gather together in the distance. "You need not further concern yourself on my behalf, Auror Clements, it is unwarranted," he murmured. "My affairs are in order. My younger brother, Asclepius Belby shall receive a fair portion of my hard-earned fortune. And as for my apprentice, Wilfredius, he also shall receive a well-sized portion to further his potion studies. A dreadfully cheerful boy, but he is talented, and I have no reason to think he will fail in this endeavor. A rival so to speak has agreed to take him under his wing should anything ever happen to me. I have the promise in writing and the goblins will ensure that my will is carried out to the very letter."

A soft popping sound is heard from behind the polyjuiced figure of Percius Clements at the window, and he does not bother glancing back knowing full well that the portkey has accomplished its task. "And so, it ends," he muttered softly to himself, before taking a deep breath. He had much to accomplish this night, and his death was only one of his main objectives, before stepping towards the door and turning the knob. And so, it begins.