Chapter 59: Repercussions - part 2

Seconds after Tom, the snake, was launched through the veil of death by Unspeakable Croaker, diverse reactions were happening throughout Europe. These are the recounting of some of the occurrences, part two.

Macnair Manor, Somewhere in England

December 19th, 1992, 03:20 PM - Sunday

Walden Macnair was walking through the forest on his private property. The man had a hobby for hunting animals that reflected in his choice for career. Being an executioner of 'dangerous' magical creatures for the Ministry could not be a popular job, but he loved it. And right now, Walden Macnair was enjoying his hobby, he was hunting a 'dangerous' animal. He had, yesterday, managed to buy in the Knockturn Alley a non-magical animal, a tiger to be more specific, and he had released it in the forest for his little session today.

The hunt, as he liked to call it, had started just after his lunch and until now it was all going the way he liked. The prey had already been hurt by him through the use of Cutting and Piercing Curses. It was just the way he liked. The thrill of hunting a 'dangerous' prey and toy with it through the use of low level spells made his blood rush inside his veins.

Walden Macnair kneeled with one knee on the ground and observed it. He saw some drops of blood beside a heavy paw print by its side. He slowly touched the paw print on the forest dirt and then looked up in front to where the paw prints pointed the direction that the prey had gone. Walden Macnair squinted his eyes at that. He knew the direction the prey was going and just what could be found in that direction, and it made him smirk.

Walden Macnair got up from his kneeling position and with wand in hand started to run after the prey by following the pawprints. It was these moments that he enjoyed the most in his hunts, the chasing. That and the killing, of course. Can't forget the killing. The 'hunter' approached his prey, and just like he had expected, the prey had put itself in a natural dead end. The tiger was trying to climb a small cliff to escape his pursuer, and normally he would have managed to do it with no effort. But not today. The animal was struggling to do it because of various punctures and cuts on its hind legs. The animal was so desperate trying to climb that he didn't even notice the arrival of Walden Macnair near it. The 'hunter' seeing the state of its prey let out another smirk.

"No, no, no… You will not escape from me again, you dumb animal."

Walden Macnair said to the tiger while still smirking. It was time to end this hunt and claim his trophy, because his arm was starting to burn because of 'some plant that he touched while running'. At least it was, he thought. The tiger, having finally noticed his pursuer, turned to him to face him and roared while assuming a position to strike.

*ROAR*

Walden Macnair chuckled at the animal. He casted the first Cutting Curse and the tiger managed to avoid it by jumping to the side. The tiger started to run at him in a desperate attack and he casted a Piercing Curse at it. This time, the curse hit true and the tiger flinched at the paint of one of its front legs being punctured. The impact made it stop for a second before continuing its attack, but it was enough for Walden Macnair to finish this hunt. He took aim at his prey with his wand and prepared to cast the killing curse.

"Avada Ke-ARGHHHH"

In the middle of the casting process, Walden Macnair was struck by an horrendous pain in his left arm. The same arm that he thought hada possibly touched some poisonous plant. In the middle of his pain, his head got muddled and forgot about his predicament with the attacking tiger and had no chance to activate his emergency escape. The tiger didn't care about it, finished his run and, when it was in the right distance of its attacker, it jumped at it with its mouth wide open and its front claws exposed. Walden Macnair had no chance. The first thing that the tiger did was to sink its fangs around his neck, and then, it held him down with its claws sunken in his chest. Walden Macnair had no chance at all, he couldn't even scream from the pain that he was feeling from his arm or from the tiger attack. He was dead in less than ten seconds. Today was the day of the prey.

Azkaban Castle, Azkaban's Island, North Sea

December 19th, 1992, 03:23 PM - Sunday

Azkaban's Island was a cold and barren place. Located on a small island in the North Sea, the Island of Azkaban was repeatedly the target of strong storms and very cold winds all year long. It didn't help the inhabitants of the island that it was home to the biggest concentration of Dementors in the world. The foul soul sucking creatures added to the cold climate of the region with their auras of despair, making it even more unstable and susceptible to storms. In the middle of this small one could find, if he was brave enough to make the journey, a tall and dark castle made entirely of black stones. The castle was a very inhospitable place to be, but even so, it housed the Magical British Community most 'secure' prison. The higher the security level of the prison, the higher it was from the ground level and the higher was the Dementors' concentration on that level.

The top level of the prison was the one of higher security and was home to the worst of the worst of the Magical Community. It was at this level that we could find people that were serving life. Monsters in human flesh like Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Rabastan Lestrange, were all imprisoned here in this top level.

Antonin Dolohov was in his cell, like any other day in his last eleven years of life. He was captured at the end of the Civil War and was tried and convicted for all his crimes. It didn't help the man that he confessed to all of them and was not even a little repentant of them.

Augustus Rookwood was in his cell too, like any other day of his last eleven years of life. He was found and captured after the end of the Civil War and was tried and convicted as a traitor to the country. He was a spy for the Dark Lord inside the Department of Mysteries that had fed the crazy man with tons of knowledge held by the Department.

Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan Lestrange were not different from their cells' neighbors. All of them were captured after the fall of the Dark Lord together with Bartemius Crouch Junior, for the torture and incapacitation of Lord and Lady Longbottom. They had other crimes over their heads too, but it was this last one and their blind faith in their Dark Lord that earned them the life sentence in Azkaban.

The five of them were permanent residents of Azkaban high security level, and together with some other figures there, they were all marked Death Eaters. It all started when Augustus Rookwood felt the itching sensation in his left arm. The man, that was surprisingly lucid for a person that was submitted daily to the horrors of the Dementors, opened his eyes and looked at his left arm, more specifically, at his Dark Mark.

"YES!"

Augustus Rookwood yelled inside his cell. That woke up most of the inmates near him.

"Shut up, Rookwood!"

Yelled back a masculine voice that the man recognized as being from one of the Lestrange brothers.

"What is it, Rookwood?"

Asked a feminine and sickly sweet voice that the man recognized as being from Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Can you feel it, Bellatrix? After eleven years, the Dark Lord's mark is showing response."

Augustus Rookwood replied back to the crazy woman. Bellatrix Lestrange, that first had discarded the itching feeling on her arm as another rash obtained from her filthy dirt cell, looked at her Dark Mark and then closed her eyes in concentration. Seconds later, she opened them back and started to madly cackle and say in her sickly sweet voice.

"I knew that He was not dead. My Dark Lord is invencible!"

In the middle of hearing the mad cackles of the crazy woman, the other inmates that were too marked start to concentrate on their own marks and have a feel for it. After just some seconds, they too had their confirmations: the Dark Mark was indeed showing signs of activity again. The majority of the high security level of the prison went up in a festive mood with each inmate partying in their own ways inside their cells. They knew that it was just a matter of time now for the Dark Lord to free them. For the first time in eleven years, they had a sliver of hope for their future freedom. But what they didn't know was that sliver of hope gained the attention of the prison's guards, and a horde of Dementors encircled the level when they felt the sweet and delicious meal being created for them.

The inmates' happiness was not a long one. Soon, the more weak ones started to complain about the burning sensation that was now taking place in their left arms. Antonin Dolohov, one of the stronger ones, asked the 'specialist' inside the group.

"Rookwood, what is happening now?"

Augustus Rookwood closed his eyes in concentration and soon noticed what was happening.

"The Dark Lord is taking our magic through the Dark Mark."

The man replied in a loud voice.

"Give it to Him. The Dark Lord will use it to return to his place in power! GIVE IT ALL TO HIM!"

Bellatrix Lestrange spoke and yelled to everyone in her crazed voice, and started to focus her magical energy to the Dark Mark. The most loyals ones in that prison level started to do the same, with the not-so-loyal ones doing it in a minor quantity. And that was their doom. The magical energy that Dark Mark was taking started to feed the snake form of Tom Riddle, who in response, started to resist with more strength the corrosive actions of the Dimensional Gap and started to take more magic from his marked followers, prolonging what could have been three short seconds to a full ten seconds of resistance.

The inmates were now howling in pain while in the ground of their cells. The more weak ones had passed out because of the pain, and the most mad one, Bellatrix Lestrange, was wheezing in the ground while still madly cackling and funneling her magic into the Dark Mark. And then, it all stopped. Tiredly, Augustus Rookwood and Bellatrix Lestrange, each in their own cells, turned their faces to their own Dark Mark. Or at least where they expected it to be and where it was seconds before.

"Where is it? What happened to my Lord's Mark? Rookwood!"

Bellatrix Lestrange found strength and shrieked in her cell. Augustus Rookwood's mood sank with the vision of a now 'clean' left arm.

"He didn't make it…"

The man said in a weak and low voice.

"The Dark Lord is dead. He didn't make it. He failed and his mark disappeared together with him."

Augustus Rookwood spoke again, this time in a louder voice.

"No! It can't be! No, no, no, NO!"

Bellatrix Lestrange started to yell in her cell, going into a total breakdown. What Azkaban had not managed to achieve in eleven years, Augustus Rookwood's words had. And it was at this time, of great despair just after having their hopes brought up, that the Dementors attacked. The foul soul sucking creatures invaded the high security level of the castle like a black wave. Each inmate there had the displeasure of receiving the visit of at least three of the creatures at the same time. Bellatrix Lestrange was the first one to fall permanently. The seven creatures that invaded her cell surrounded what was left of the woman and started to feed on her emotions at the same time. But it was not enough for them. The creatures were into a hunger frenzy, and they were not going to be denied their meal. Not today. It was then that one of the Dementors approached Bellatrix Lestrange's face with its own and started to suck her soul out of her body.

Five seconds. That was all that took the Dementor to suck the soul out of the body of the witch that was considered the strongest and scariest witch in the last century in all the British Isles. Her upper body that had gone up from the floor during the extraction of the soul, fell into the cell's stone floor with a muted thud sound.

*thud*

The woman's eyes, that before were full of life and madness, were now empty and vacantly looking to the cell's ceiling. Her silence was the most disturbing thing about it. And that seemed to start a chain reaction within the Dementors. One of the creatures in each cell started suck the soul out of its residents, leaving behind only empty husks with empty and vacant eyes that were looking to walls or ceilings. Thirty seconds later, the high security level of the Azkaban Prison was totally silent again.

It was only during the next day's lunch hours, a Monday, that the empty husks of the prisoners of the high security level were found by the team of human wardens that were serving their meals. The Daily Prophet got wind of it and it was their front cover news for the Tuesday edition. Only a few people in the Magical British Community mourned the loss. Most of them found in it only another reason to celebrate their Yule/Christmas holidays.

But that was the precursor of a project for a future Minister Bones to totally reform the prison system, including the permanent closure of Azkaban.

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a/n: I was going to write about the Carrows here, but the chapter would get too long. But you all can be sure that something did happen to them too.

a/n2: MERRY XMAS!