2nd Dec 1995 (Day -1 before Harry's release)
After the trial of Harry Potter, the gossip died out after a few days, but now that one day remained until his release, the topic was on everyone's lips.
Today, at Malfoy Manor, every Death Eater was gathered. Due to the specific time, they all knew exactly why they were called here by their Lord. Still, they could not help but feel nervous. They sat at the long table without speaking a single word.
The only thing breaking the silence was the sound of a steady surface beat made by Voldemort's long, bony fingers as they tapped rhythmically on the dark table.
*Tap, tap, tap.*
It was irritating, but knowing who was making the sound, the Death Eaters could not complain. Everyone was tense, every last one of them.
Some of them were staring down at their laps while others were awkwardly shifting in their seats. Whenever they tried to observe the other Death Eaters, they saw that the others were behaving the same. No one dared to look at the Dark Lord directly, except for maybe a quick glance here or there.
Sitting at the head of the long rectangular table, Voldemort looked entirely unfazed by the tension. His right elbow was on the table with his hand supporting his head as he continued to hit the table with his fingers.
*Tap, tap, tap.*
Every single thud was tortured to the gathered Death Eaters.
No one dared to speak, not until the Dark Lord broke the silence. But Voldemort did not seem like he was going to complete their wish. The silence continued.
After what seemed like an eternity, there was a change in Voldemort's behaviour. He was no longer in deep thought, and now there was a terrifying smile on his face.
Finally, his gaze shifted, his head tilting just a fraction as he allowed his piercing eyes to land on Macnair, who was seated halfway down the table. The tension that had already been filling the room reached its peak as Voldemort's gaze settled there.
Macnair felt terrified. Why me? He wanted to curse.
*Tap, tap, tap.*
"Macnair," Voldemort's voice finally broke the silence. "Have you managed to gather the precise timing of Potter's retrieval?"
Macnair's reaction was immediate. He practically leaped out of his chair and stood so abruptly that his chair scraped noisily against the floor, causing several heads to flinch in his direction. All the Death Eaters were looking at him.
"I... " Macnair stammered.
The usual imposing Macnair shrank under Voldemort's gaze. He swallowed hard before he forced himself to speak. "Yes, my Lord, Tomorrow, at noon."
Voldemort's tapping ceased instantly.
Still resting his head on his left hand, he signaled Macnair to continue.
"Madam Amelia Bones will be leading a group of five Aurors," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now, as though afraid of being struck down for even speaking her name in front of Voldemort. "They'll be going to Azkaban... to retrieve Potter."
A tense silence followed.
Voldemort's expression didn't change. His eyes remained locked on Macnair. Macnair realized that the irritating tapping was a melody compared to this void of sound.
Slowly, the corners of Voldemort's thin, pale lips curled upward into a twisted smile that held no warmth, only the promise of something far more sinister.
"Five Aurors," Voldemort chuckled. His amusement seemed to grow, his smile widening ever so slightly. "They believe five Aurors will be sufficient to retrieve Harry Potter from Azkaban? Foolish."
The Death Eaters shifted in their seats uncomfortably, unsure whether Voldemort's laughter was a sign of pleasure or a warning of impending doom.
Knowing him, it was probably both.
He let the silence hang again for a moment, savoring the tension that had the entire room on edge. "Macnair," Voldemort addressed him once again.
"You will ensure our... welcome is prepared for them at Azkaban. I want all five of the Aurors dead, and Harry Potter captured. I hope you understand the consequences if you fail this."
Macnair's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I'll... I'll make the necessary arrangements and will not disappoint you."
Voldemort replied, "I will let you decide who you want in this mission of yours."
-----
"Macanir, Lucius, Yaxley, Crabbe Snr, and Amycus Carrow will be the five Death Eaters who will intercept the Aurors transporting Harry Potter from Azkaban to the Ministry of Magic office."
Severus Snape was now done narrating to Albus Dumbledore about the previous night's meeting that happened between Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
They were in the headmaster's office. Dumbledore watched the rising sun casting away the darkness around Hogwarts as he listened carefully to each word spoken by Snape. Today at noon, Harry was going to be released.
Three months were nearly over.
Just a few more hours, and the boy would return.
"Severus," Dumbledore finally said, "I will inform the Order of the Phoenix. They must be ready to intercept the Death Eaters before they can strike."
Albus knew things would not go so smoothly. But with Snape as a mole, and with this information, they were ready to block Voldemort's attempt. The Order just needed to make sure that the Aurors were able to get Harry back safely.
Just then, a loud crash shattered the tense moment.
An owl slammed against the window with a frantic flap of wings, talons scratching against the glass as it tried to get inside.
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes as he was not expecting any post.
He opened the window, and the owl fluttered inside, landing awkwardly on the edge of the desk. Dumbledore reached out to retrieve the letter tied to its leg. As he unfolded the parchment, Snape watched with keen interest.
The change in Dumbledore's demeanor was immediate.
The usually calm and composed wizard went rigid, his eyes scanning the letter with an unsettling intensity. Snape's heart raced as he waited for Dumbledore to process the message.
"Severus," he said slowly, almost as if he were trying to process the implications of the news before him, "there was an early envoy sent to retrieve Harry from Azkaban, and they were attacked. Harry Potter is missing."