The tall, thin figure of a hooded man can be seen at the edge of a gloomy forest. The night was especially cold and wet as Rodolphus Lestrange waited. The tall, slender wizard with icy dark eyes peers into the night as he waits. Not long after the sound of a flutter of wings is heard as a dark owl lets out a screech as it lands on a nearby branch intently staring at him with large yellow eyes. The owl had belonged to Alphard until he had been gifted to Aberforth just before Alphard's death.
"Shh, it's me, Crow," the Rodolphus chided with a hint of gentleness. "Have you something for me from Capricorn?"
The bird lets out a screech and sticks out its leg. The gloved figure carefully removes the tiny rolled-up parchment scroll. The man carefully reads the message before wordlessly burning the scroll. Scattering the ashes to the wind with his gloved hands in a near whisper, he says, "The Dark Lord possesses a giant serpent and it has taken to following me at the most inconvenient of times. We will return to the old means of communication until the serpent is slain."
The black owl lets out an annoyed hoot, but leaps off its branch, before flying away into the night. Rodolphus Lestrange further pulls up the cowl of his hood and nimbly makes his way through the woods. Near the edge of the woods, he emerges onto a road trailing past the little-known muggle town by the name of Sharamourn.
With practiced ease, Rodolphus apparated to the bottom of the path that led to the old Gibbon manor that overlooked the small village down in the valley below. The dark manor is surrounded by thorny leafless overgrown bushes. Briskly he makes his way up the winding path and past the cold, metal gates and the ancient, decaying trees.
A thick mossy smell fills the air reminding Rodolphus of the graveyard that lay behind the ancient manor no filled with recent rotting corpses. With ease, he enters Gibbons Manor and makes his way into the great hall. The Death Eaters in residence are all busy with some assigned task by the Dark Lord. Ever since, his return, Lord Voldemort had regained some of his old semblance drawing again his followers faithfully towards him.
The broad-shouldered, Antonin Dolohov leisurely sips at Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey as he waits for the Dark Lord to finish instructing various Death Eaters in the closed chamber. His cold haughty features twist into a familiar sneer at spotting the icy visage of Lestrange. "My, my, look at what the hungry kneazle dragged in, a wet crow," Dolohov coldly jested.
Rodolphus does not react for only he and Dolohov knew, they shared a tentative, but a secret truce between the two of them. Ignoring the jabbing remark, he crisply asks, "How long has the Dark Lord been locked in the chambers with Darith Yaxley? I have urgent news which to deliver."
"They have been speaking for some time now, so there is no telling how much longer it will be," Dolohov answered with a gleam of interest in his eyes. "And just where did you go off to scavenge, Lestrange, a corpse perchance?"
Before Rodolphus can reply, a soft hiss echoes through the hallway causing the two wizard's heads to whirl in the direction of the source. Rodolphus subtly reaches for his wand, while Dolohov's grip on the glass in his hand tightens. From the shadows further down the hallway emerges a green serpent with a flat viper's head. There are diamond patterns across the snake's skin, the serpent is as thick as a man's thigh, and is over twelve feet long.
Incredibly poisonous and deadly, Nagini was the Dark Lord's new trusted companion. His eyes and ears, so to speak. None of the Death Eater's 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. The death of the widow, Empusa Snyde at the hands of Dolohov still haunted many Death Eaters and caused them to shiver with horror and dread.
Nagini flicked her tongue as she observed the two wizards waiting in the foyer of the manor. The broad-shouldered, arrogant-faced wizard scented like a rabid dog. A rabid dog would always obediently attack and tear his master's enemies to pieces until it turned and bit the master's hand that fed it.
Still, it was not that wizard that troubled her, but rather the taller, and far more slender wizard with icy dark eyes. That wizard scented of fiery brimstone and frigid ice so cold that it sent a shiver crawling across her flesh. Yes, this was the wizard that caused her to always want to tightly coil, ready to spring forward to attack at the slightest hint of danger.
However, Nagini's kin time and time again dissuaded her from doing so. Her kin said that that wizard was a trusted ally and she must not attack her kin's ally. She did not want to disappoint her kin, so she did as she was told. But whenever she was given the opportunity, she would follow and carefully observe the dangerous wizard. She'd not allow harm to befall her kin on her watch. Not again. She could not bear it.
The door slamming up causes Nagini to be roused from her thoughts, and instinctively coiling upward. "We shall do as we were told, Master," Darith Yaxley self-importantly answered as he superciliously marched out to carry out the task imposed by their master followed by a few other Death Eaters.
Darith Yaxley's footsteps falter nearly causing the other Death Eaters to crash into him. The Death Eater's glare and glance around him until they spot the large, and a very poisonous serpent coiled in the hall ready to spring to attack. The Death Eaters try not to gulp and make sure to hide behind Darith Yaxley. He'd be the first one to be bitten giving them enough time to flee for their lives. Death Eaters were not very much the selfless sacrificing sort.
"Come now, Yaxley, it is merely a snake," Dolohov mockingly said as he took a sip of his firewhiskey, but all the while keeping the serpent in his sight at all times. "You wouldn't want to keep the Dark Lord waiting, you really should be on your way."
Darith Yaxley indignantly quivers, before hoisting his robes and practically running away. The other Death Eaters instantly copy his actions in self-preservation and run away with their robes hosted above their ankles. They would be utterly mortified later, but their personal feelings of humiliation were put aside as preserving their lives was far more important.