Hellfire in New York

Hellfire in New York

Chapter 2: "The Fiendish Plot of the Black Queen"

The man sitting at the window table of the quiet restaurant in New York stood to shake hands heartily with his guests. The three sat down, ordered drinks from the hovering waiter, and began chatting while they perused the menus.

"You're looking well, Remus," remarked Hank McCoy. Remus Lupin nodded and smiled. "I'm feeling better than I have in ages."

Remus' hair was a little too grey for a man in his mid-thirties, but he had put on a few pounds lately, and his face was not so haggard. His eyes had lost the hint of exhaustion and fear that they had held for so long.

McCoy shook his head and grinned. "I can't get used to you like that, you know!" A stocky, powerful-looking man about the same age as Remus, Hank had a chubby, amiable face, thick, brown hair, and a pair of round glasses perched on his snub nose - glasses he seemed to look over most of the time, rather than through.

The third man, who had been studying the form of a pretty waitress, joined the conversation. He looked to be in his early twenties, with the wiry build of a dancer or an acrobat, and dark, curly hair. His face was keen, sharp, and in a certain light (as he often reminded people) looked a little like a young Errol Flynn. When he spoke, it was with a light but definite German accent. "So, mein freund," he said, "what is the cause of your new lease on life?"

Remus explained, "It seems that You-Know-Who had managed to recruit a number of werewolves to his cause - no surprise there. One of them was Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who bit me when I was a child. It seems that, like vampires, werewolves can exert subtle pressures on others they've 'sired' in that way. Greyback was calling all his 'children' to him. It was fighting that call subconsciously that was wearing me out."

"Ah!" said Kurt Wagner. "Then once Harry dealt with Voldemort...?"

"Fenrir had other things on his mind," finished Remus. "Both the Aurors and the other Death Eaters were after him. He started concentrating on saving his own mangy hide! So now, all I have to worry about is being somewhere safe, with the proper potion, every full moon."

"Not quite all," ventured Hank, "or we wouldn't be here. It's always a pleasure to see you, Remus, but we could have met up, as we've done so often before, at Xavier's or Grimmauld Place. Also, you usually give us more notice than this. So, what's up?"

"You're as astute as ever, Hank," Remus acknowledged. "The fact is, I'm here on business, sort of."

"Sort of?" enquired Kurt. "I thought the Order of the Phoenix had been dissolved?"

"It has. I work for the Ministry now. Technically, I'm supposed to be locating other werewolves so that they can be helped or, if need be, eliminated. But that's not exactly what brought me here." Remus paused while they ordered dinner, then continued. "Look, I've spoken to you before about Bellatrix Lestrange, yes?"

Hank nodded. "She's one of Voldemort's most trusted lieutenants, you told us, and rumored to be his mistress?"

"Correct," Remus replied. "Bellatrix is a very clever, dangerous woman in her own right, though she was so besotted with her Dark Lord that her judgement got clouded towards the end. Anyway, she led the force that made a diversionary attack on the Ministry last spring. We tried to capture her, but she gave us the slip, along with two others.

"One, Augustus Rookwood, was a spy for years in the Ministry. Since he escaped from Azkaban, though, he's been little more than a psychopathic killer. Bella will be using him as an enforcer and bodyguard, I'm sure.

"The other is Peter Pettigrew," Remus' voice was suddenly harsh, his face twisted and bitter, "also called Wormtail." He seemed reluctant to say more, but Hank was having none of it.

"If we're to help you, and you know we will, you have to trust us. Tell us all of it, my friend. It helps, I know."

Remus sighed, and then looked up from his plate, his eyes far away. "There were four of us, back then. We called ourselves 'Marauders', and we were up for any kind of mischief you can name. The group included Sirius Black, James Potter, me, and Peter Pettigrew."

"Sirius we know," said Kurt, nodding. "He's good people. James Potter...Was he Harry's dad? If he was anything like his son, he must have been quite a specimen!"

Remus smiled sadly. "Yes and no. There's a lot of James in Harry - James' dash, his flair, especially on the Quidditch pitch, and his gift for leadership. But James could be cocky, and a bully at times, and he was reckless in a way Harry's never quite been. Harry seems to know the difference between a calculated risk and a silly one, and he doesn't court danger for its own sake.

"James was the ringleader of course, and we always wondered why he chose to hang around with three odd-men-out like us. I mean Sirius is a Black; he comes from one of the oldest Pureblood families in the wizarding world. All his family except for one cousin were Slytherins. When the Hat put Sirius in Gryffindor, it put him at odds with the rest of his family."

"Ach!" muttered Kurt. "All this Slytherin and Gryffindor stuff! What does it all mean? Marie and Bobby talk about Gryffindor this and Gryffindor that, and it's, "Ask Padma, she's a Ravenclaw" whenever you mention magic. It makes my head spin!"

Remus chuckled. "Now you know how I feel when Hank here talks about elemental or feral or psionic Mutants! But, Kurt, a House means more than just where you live at school. When the Hat sorts a person, it does it according to what's inside the person's mind, his inner self, if you like. Take Hermione Granger - Charm, isn't it? She's quite the cleverest young woman I've ever known. Anyone would have thought she'd be put into Ravenclaw - no question. But she has something, a fire, a passion perhaps, that made her a Gryffindor. That's how it works. Marie became a Gryffindor because of the exchange, but I'd say the Hat would put her into that House anyway.

"But to go back to my story. Sirius was the only one in our year who could come close to matching James in everything. So they either had to be friends or deadly rivals. They chose to be friends, and when they dug out my nasty little secret - where I went to every full moon - they did no more than make me their third member! They treated me as a person, not a monster - like you two do - and I'll always be grateful for that.

"Peter... Peter was the little, fat, pathetic kid who hangs around with the big lads so as not to get bullied. He wasn't - isn't - brave or clever, but he tried so hard, and we admired him for it. So we let him pal around with us, and made him part of the gang, and looked after him. He repaid us with betrayal." Remus took a deep breath, and forced a calm into his voice.

"The wizarding world was under siege in those days. Voldemort was at the height of his power, and his Death Eaters did about as they pleased. James and Lily refused to bow to him, so he hated them. James was well known and admired; if anyone could have led us against the Dark Lord, he could!

"But there was Lily to consider, and then Harry. James decided that the family should hide away at Godric's Hollow until Voldemort fell or until Harry was ready to go to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore would guard him, freeing James to act. James needed a Secret Keeper to hide the house. I thought - everyone assumed - that it was Sirius. But Sirius was as big a target as James, so he persuaded James to make Peter the Secret Keeper instead. Sirius told him it would be safer; nobody would think such a big secret would be entrusted to little Peter!

"What we didn't know was Pettigrew was already a Death Eater. When Voldemort heard of the prophecy about Harry, Pettigrew told him where to find the Potters. James and Lily were killed, and Harry - well, he survived, but I don't think anyone except perhaps Dumbledore knew how or why. Voldemort's body was destroyed, but somehow his spirit survived, too weak to do anything for a long time.

"Of course, everyone in our world knew at once what had happened. Sirius went tearing off to Godric's Hollow and found little Harry among the ruins. Then Hagrid turned up - Dumbledore had sent him to fetch Harry - and Sirius handed him over. The next we heard of Sirius, he'd been arrested for murdering Peter Pettigrew!

"Little Peter was more clever than we thought. He managed to frame Sirius for his murder and the murders of Muggles caught in the conflict. But I didn't know that, then. I spent the next twelve years or so skulking through life, thinking one of my best friends had murdered the other two. Then the same year as Sirius escaped from Azkaban, Dumbledore sought me out and offered me a teaching post at Hogwarts. I jumped at it, because I knew that Sirius would go there, either to protect Harry or to kill him. I wanted to confront Sirius, you see; I needed to hear the truth for myself!"

Kurt nodded. "The rest we know, the kids told us. Pettigrew had spent all that time living as Ron's pet rat. It was recognizing him that drove Sirius to make his escape. When it all came out, Sirius had to go into hiding, and Pettigrew ran off to join Voldemort."

"And now," said Hank, "Pettigrew is here in New York, along with the Lestrange woman and this Rookwood. Am I right?"

Remus sighed. "Yes. Finding all three of them is my official reason for being here. After Voldemort fell, Fenrir Greyback joined up with the other three. Something drew them here - something centred in that building across the road."

Both Americans glanced across. Hank drew in a hissing breath. "Remus, do you know what that building is?"

Remus shrugged. "Some kind of club for rich people, by the look of it."

Hank gave a short laugh. "Hardly. It's the New York branch of the Hellfire Club!"

Remus looked puzzled. "Hellfire Club, now where have I...? Of course! The Hellfire Club is that group of Mutants who tried to kidnap Kitty Pryde and the rest while Harry was over here, right? They attacked Xavier's mansion a few weeks later, didn't they?"

Kurt smiled reminiscently. "Ja, we had some fun that day, didn't we, Hank? But the Hellfire Club itself is just what it appears to be, a club for the wealthy and influential; however, there is an organization within the organization - an Inner Circle - that is an altogether different animal.

"It's led by a man named Sebastian Shaw, who calls himself the Black King. He's a millionaire, a businessman, a politician, and a Mutant."

Hank McCoy added, "Shaw is the third point of what Jean used to call the 'Mutant Triangle', the other two points being Charles and Erik Lensherr - Magneto. Charles and Magneto developed Cerebro together and founded the School for Gifted Youngsters. But they fell out over...ideology, I suppose. Charles believes Mutants and Muggles - thanks for that word, by the way - can learn to live together in peace. Magneto thinks that the only way Mutants can escape persecution is by either dominating Muggles, or making them so scared of us that they keep away.

"Shaw has a different idea, though. He's trying to work from within the system, manipulating Mutants secretly into positions of power in the Muggle world. He started by recruiting wealthy, powerful people who also happened to be Mutants. Then, when he recruited Emma Frost, he decided to work on kids: Take young Mutants, train them in his methods, and insert them into places where they can head to the top.

"Shaw himself can absorb kinetic energy. Almost any kind of attack will only make him stronger. Dr Emma Frost - the White Queen - is a telepath, not as powerful as Charles, but much more aggressive. The Black Bishop is Henry Leland, who manipulates mass; he can make you heavier just by willing it. Then there's Donald Pierce, the White Rook. He's not a Mutant, but a brilliant inventor, and a cyborg."

"Cyborg?" Remus had never heard the word.

Hank explained, "Cyborg - cybernetic organism - a person who is part-human, part-machine. Pierce lost his limbs in an accident, and had them replaced by artificial ones of his own design that make him almost as strong as Colossus."

Remus shuddered. "When you hear things like that, you can almost understand why some wizards feel the way they do about Muggles!"

Hank was forced to agree, then he carried on. "The Inner Circle recently acquired two new members. One is the White Knight, Jason Wyngarde. We X-Men used to know him as Mastermind when he was one of Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants. He's an illusionist powerful enough to create entire scenarios that can make a person kill their best friend or fall in love with their greatest enemy.

"Then there's Selene, the Black Queen, about whom we know two things: One, that she's the Black Queen; two, that she registers on Cerebro not as a Mutant but as a very powerful witch!

"So, now you know that, when do we go in?"

Remus grinned. "Not until after we've had our pudding!"

"Dessert," said Hank.

"Whatever," said Kurt. "Let's order it!"

Some little time later, the three men stood in the alley that ran by the side of the Hellfire Club's imposing building. Remus looked down at himself. "Time to get into my working clothes, I think!"

He produced a wand from nowhere in particular and flicked it at the smart suit he was wearing; the suit promptly shimmered and became a rather worn wizard robe. Kurt and Hank made adjustments to their wristwatches and, without transition, became something slightly more than human.

Hank grew even broader, his body bulging with powerful muscles covered with thick, coarse, blue fur. He wore only a pair of black, close-fitting shorts. His face acquired harsher planes, though his eyes remained unchanged, and when his irrepressible grin broke out, it revealed a row of formidable-looking fangs. Hank McCoy was once again the X-Man known as Beast.

Meanwhile, Kurt's face turned indigo blue, his ears became pointed, and his eyes turned yellow as a cat's. His wiry frame was clad in a black leather X-Man uniform, except for his three-toed, birdlike feet and the unusual hands equipped with two thick, powerful fingers and a thumb. To complete the gargoyle-like image, he also had a long, thin, whiplike tail. Nightcrawler was in town!

Remus smiled. "Finally! It just doesn't seem normal to see you two looking... looking...."

"Normal?" suggested Kurt.

"I was trying not to say that."

"Come on, guys!" put in Beast. "We're burning moonlight!"

"Right!" Remus grinned. "Setting wand to 'stun'!"

"There may be life, Remus, but not as we know it," intoned Beast.

Nightcrawler, who'd been checking a side door, huffed in mock exasperation, "Don't start, you two! Door's locked."

"So?" asked Remus, stepping over and pointing his wand at the lock. "Alohomora!"

"Useful, that," remarked Beast. "Now listen, Remus, Muggles in Regency costume will be legitimate club employees - not to be turned into toads or whatever. Ones in blue bodysuits will be Inner Circle mercenaries; they're fair game. We'll try to avoid as many of the alarm systems as we can, but we're bound to trip something eventually. Stay together and stay loose."

Remus' Disillusionment spell was quite effective at first, and the three of them managed to find their way to the wine cellar quickly enough. It was in the corridor heading towards it that trouble started. An alarm began to shrill urgently. "Oh, bugger!" groaned Remus. "What happened?"

"Probably an infra-red or laser trip," supplied Beast. "A little more alacrity is called for, gentlemen!"

But even as they began to run, a half-dozen men in Regency garb appeared from a side corridor. They made for the three, but then suddenly began to behave oddly, bumping into each other, falling over their own feet, running into walls and dashing off in completely the wrong direction. The three friends made it through the door into the cellar itself. Kurt closed it behind them and said, "Would somebody tell me what just happened?"

"Confunded the lot of 'em!" explained Remus. "No permanent harm, but they won't know their arses from their elbows for the next few hours."

"Ah! Now, then, the entrance to the underground complex should be here somewhere..."

A Reveal Charm proved an admirable shortcut, but the complex electronic security lock defied Remus' magic. "It's an old spell," he pointed out, "not designed for things like this."

X-Men uniforms, even those as skimpy as Beast's, did actually boast a utility belt - a fact that had always amused Muggle-born Hermione, to her wizard friends puzzlement. Hank had produced a miniature toolkit from his. After a few moments' work, he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and the door hissed open. Meanwhile, Nightcrawler had pulled out a spare communicator and handed it to Remus, asking, "Remember how to use this?"

"I think so. Set to Tac One?"

"Ja. In case we get separated. Ready, Hank?"

The room beyond the door proved to be an automatic elevator, which whisked them swiftly down to a pre-set level and opened on a long, brightly lit corridor. The three moved down it, on the lookout for doors. Unfortunately, the first one they saw opened ahead of them to disgorge two armed mercenaries who levelled their weapons and peremptorily ordered, "Freeze!"

Beast winced. Not from the danger, but from the 'boom' in one ear and the 'bamf' in the other. Remus and Nightcrawler vanished simultaneously, to reappear instantly behind the unfortunate mercs. Remus Stunned one while Kurt rabbit-punched the other.

The allies grinned at each other. "We're getting better at that," remarked Kurt, "even if you've never been in the Danger Room."

"Natural talent, I suppose," replied Remus.

"Gangway!" yelled Beast. Remus and Nightcrawler leapt to the side as their comrade bounded between them, somersaulted and landed a powerful kick to the face of a tall, robed figure who had appeared behind them. The man dropped like a stone, and the three friends stooped to examine him.

"Well, he's a wizard, obviously," said Beast. "Wand, robe, the works. I don't suppose you know him, Remus?"

"The wizarding world isn't that small, Hank," Remus observed, frowning as he looked closer. "Now, here's a thing! I've never seen robes cut quite like that before, or in that kind of pattern. Is there a label, I wonder?

"Ah! Here we are! 'Hand-made by free House Elves for Godolphin's Bespoke Robes, Tangenti Alley, Boston, Mass.'. A local, by the looks of things! Rather complicates matters."

Nightcrawler scratched his head. "Professor Xavier told us that American wizards aren't organized like European ones."

Remus said, "They aren't. There's no American equivalent to our Ministry of Magic. But you see, Kurt, this is such a big country. There are so many places for wizards to get away from Muggles, that a lot of them do just that. American wizards, I'm told, are a fiercely independent and individualistic bunch. Most of the ones that came over here way back when did so because the wizarding world in Europe was already very crowded and confined. They broke away from us long before you lot had your revolution!"

"And now, we must assume," Beast pointed out gravely, "that some of them are working for Selene."

"As I said," replied Remus, "it complicates matters. Let's keep moving, chaps."

The bright, modern corridor ended in a large, old-fashioned door of oak, with iron fastenings. "So," asked Kurt, "if we knock, who's gonna answer? Bela Lugosi, or Lurch?"

"Who said anything about knocking?" quipped Beast, pushing lightly on the door. It swung obligingly open, without even an ominous creak. Through it, they could see a stone corridor, lit with flaming sconces on the walls.

"Roll three or less on a D6 to Move Silently," murmured Beast.

"What?" asked Remus, flummoxed.

"Don't ask," Nightcrawler advised.

The three men stepped cautiously forward, then Remus looked down and swore. Beast glanced down, saw an odd-looking sign etched on the floor, then everything spun away and vanished.

****

When the world came back again, Beast was somewhere else entirely. He seemed to be in a large, harshly lit space with the distinctive aroma of a gymnasium. All around him, tough-looking men were training for unarmed combat.

There was a moment's silence before a giant of a man with a shaved head and a broken nose stepped forward. He spoke in the unmistakable tones of a drill instructor - the kind who will one day be shot in cold blood by one of his own trainees.

"Well, lookee here, ladies. Seems we got ourselves a new recruit! Let's give him a big Hellfire Club welcome!"

Beast grinned, showing the men his fangs. "Gentlemen," he invited, "shall we dance?"

It was fun, but it was over far too quickly - for Beast anyway. For the men who faced him, it was a nightmare. Despite their training, they were no match for a being with the strength of a gorilla, the agility of a cat, the ferocity of a mongoose, and the intelligence of a human.

Beast vaulted and leaped, spun and swung. He kicked and punched, and wherever he struck, men fell. Hank took particular delight in flooring the arrogant instructor with a single devastating punch. But then it was over. Beast swiped his hands and took stock. Remus and Nightcrawler were nowhere to be seen - the spell must have separated them. A similar thing had happened to the kids in the Labyrinth of Amagor, he recalled.

He triggered his communicator. "Nightcrawler? Remus? Anybody hear me?"

"Hank? Remus here. I'm sort of under siege, and I've got an injured person with me!"

"Is it Kurt?"

"No, but she might be important. I could do with a hand, mate!"

She? wondered Beast. No time for questions now. "OK, I'll try to get a fix. Leave your communicator switched on, pal. I'll be there as quick as I can!"

Hank adjusted his communicator to locator mode - a refinement he had recently added to the little devices - and it immediately began to ping. The tone of the pings told him the direction, while their frequency changed with distance. He made for the door of the gym, hoping that it was Remus' signal he was locked onto, rather than Kurt's.

****

"Well, this sucks!" muttered Nightcrawler to himself. He had appeared near the wall of a large, torch-lit cave, and had instinctively darted back against the rough wall. He was in shadow there, where the combination of his indigo hide and the matte-black uniform made him all but invisible to anyone not looking for him.

Fortunately, no one in the cave was paying attention to its peripheries. The cave was full of robed wizards. Some were sitting by a crude hearth talking or reading. Others lounged at a wooden table, drinking. Still others were dotted around the space in pairs, apparently refining their duelling techniques. Kurt knew that these people were far more dangerous than ordinary Hellfire Club mercenaries; they might be as lethal as an equal number of Mutants. He recalled one of Wolverine's famous admonitions: There's a time for fightin', and a time for bein' sneaky. Sneaky sounded good to Nightcrawler just now.

The entrance to the cave was some way over to Nightcrawler's left. He began to slip silently along the wall, sticking to the shadows. He almost made it, but for a bit of bad luck. He was close to a pair of duelling wizards when one of them broke through the other's guard. The stricken wizard was thrown backwards by the spell and landed at Kurt's feet. The other ran forward, calling, "Theo, you OK?" Then he spotted the intruder and demanded, "Who the blazes are you?"

Nightcrawler leaped forward and downed the man, but it was too late. The alarm had spread. By a combination of rapid teleporting and powerful karate moves, Nightcrawler managed to knock out four more wizards, but by then, most of them were either between him and the door or coming up behind him.

Fast, agile and formidable, Nightcrawler nonetheless lacked Beast's strength and Wolverine's ferocity. He couldn't fight his way through so many. He glanced around - the cave rose up above him into impenetrable shadows. Any port in a storm. he thought, while he teleported as far up the wall as he could. The rock was rough, providing ample grip for his remarkable fingers and toes. He scuttled up the wall like a spider, while the surprised wizards searched for their quarry. A few hexes struck the wall around him, but before anyone could get a decent aim, Kurt had blended into the shadows.

Nightcrawler knew it was only a matter of time before someone came up with a spell that would locate him, so he kept moving, hoping to find a hidey-hole or an exit, a defensible position at least. Near the top of the wall, he found a narrow fissure, into which he wriggled gratefully. It proved to be the entrance to a tunnel of sorts. He crept along until he saw light ahead and heard voices.

Nightcrawler squeezed out through a narrow gap and looked around him. He was in another cave, even bigger than the last. Some distance below him, the walls were covered with dark-green vines with broad leaves. Somewhere to hide? He made to move, then froze as a voice came to him.

"Your Majesty?"

Kurt looked down. At one end of the cave stood a dais with an elaborate throne on it. Lounging in the throne was a woman. Even at this distance, he could see that she was extraordinarily beautiful, with a lush, sensual figure that the wisps of black silk she wore did little to hide. She shook aside a mane of raven hair and spoke in a vibrant contralto. By some acoustic trick of the cave, Nightcrawler was able to hear everything she said.

"Yes?"

A man in the uniform of a Hellfire Club mercenary was on one knee before the throne. "The messengers have returned, Majesty. They await your pleasure outside." The man clearly felt uncomfortable with this antique style of speech, but persevered. The woman rose from the throne and strolled toward him.

"Rise," she commanded, and he stood, towering over her. She put a hand on his chest and smiled up into his face. "You're a fine-looking man. What's your name?"

"Mancuso, Majesty."

Nightcrawler had already deduced that this was Selene, the Black Queen. He watched in cold fascination as she ran her hands over the merc's biceps and up onto his shoulders. "Hmmm, so strong..." she purred. "I like that in a man. I think you could earn a special place in my favour. Would you like that?"

The man nodded. Selene slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, a long, deep kiss. As Kurt watched in horror, the man's body seemed to shrink and fall in on itself. At the end, Selene was holding the inert form upright. She drew back, inspecting what was now a shrunken, withered corpse. The Black Queen seemed to throb with energy - energy Nightcrawler realised had been sucked from the mercenary. She took the body to the wall, and thrust it into the vines.

The plants reached out to grasp the husk, pulling it into themselves. Kurt heard crunching, cracking and sucking sounds, then the vines fell still. Memo to self : Do NOT feed the plants! Nightcrawler was in deep shadow up here, so decided that a little more eavesdropping would be safe.

Selene had resumed her throne, and now called out, "Enter!" Two people came into the hall. In the lead was a woman in her thirties, dark, with a strong, sensual face, dressed in an elaborate witch's robe. Behind her walked a big man in a plain black robe like an Auror's, his heavily handsome face set in a permanent sneer. Selene rose again and came forward to greet them, holding out both hands.

"Bella! Augustus! Back so soon? How wonderful!"

She took the woman, whom Kurt realised must be Bellatrix Lestrange, into her arms and kissed her, fully and deeply, like a lover, then greeted the man in the same way before asking, "Did you get it?"

"The Howling Heart-Stone?" asked Bellatrix. "Yes, we did. We dropped it off in the Aumbry on the way down. But it doesn't howl, you know."

"Not yet, but it will!" Selene reassured her as she led them over to the throne. She relaxed into it again. Bellatrix settled on the floor at her feet, leaning against her legs, while Rookwood perched on one arm of the throne and began to stroke Selene's hair.

"The Stone will howl," Selene explained, "when the Nether-Wind blows through it. Now, darlings, we have the Weeping Chalice, which holds the Water of Styx, and the Groaning Ark to contain Cursed Earth. All we require is a Screaming Brazier for the Fires of Hell. I know there are two of these left, but I have the location of only one."

"You've told us," growled Rookwood, "and it's hopeless. The stupid Muggles think it's some kind of 'alien' artefact, and even wizards can't get past the security at this Area 51!"

"That's because they have wizards working with them. Damned blood traitors!" snarled Bellatrix.

"Hush, my love!" soothed Selene. "I have looked in the Stone of Isengard, and found the other. It is far away, but I have sent my faithful White Rook to fetch it. It will be here within the week.

"Soon, my dears, when the Moon reaches her dark quarter, we will open the gates, and I will claim my rightful heritage!"

"And," Bellatrix's eyes glowed fanatically, "you will bring forth our Dark Lord again?"

"Of course, my Bella!" Selene stroked the other woman's cheek. "Lord Voldemort alone is worthy to be my consort. Oh, don't be jealous! I don't demand fidelity from my loves, only loyalty to my cause.

"But now, it has been too long since I saw you both. Come to my chamber, and we shall feast and then pleasure one another!"

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