The Pureblood Coup

Sheherazade: Thanks for your review. It will get sad for Narcissa and Bellatrix won't be too cute anymore. Bellatrix's jealously is finally going to be a plot-factor. I imagine the Veelas are not naturally emaciated, in my imagination they are rail-thin because they are almost starved.

Lilith: Evil I know, and gross is what it is all turning out to be. They kind of deserve an unhappy ending what with not only murdering, but allowing 700+ to have their souls sucked away. Ew! Thanks for the review.


Warning: You might not want to read if you are eating or have just eaten. It all depends on how squeamish you are.


Chapter Thirteen: Don’t Leave Me Now


Fenrir Greyback marched alone out of the deserted ballroom-theater and into the cathedral-sized hall, passing under the now moving statue of the naked witch and wizard, with the stone snake entwined at their torsos. There certainly was not much if any penetration going on between the animated statues anymore, although the insipid grinding continued, as it was the consciousless statues making the grinding noise from their pelvis’s banging each other.

As Greyback strode out of the long hall, he came near the end and he fumbled inside his disheveled robes, which were giving him a slovenly appearance. Out of his pockets came one of the many pieces of human flesh he had stored. It was some of the booty he had gotten as his reward for capturing all the muggles for the mass executions.

Outside the hall near the first landing of the main staircase was a small fountain with a gargoyle perched on the edge of it's basin. But instead of water pouring out of the fanged mouth of the gargoyle, wine flowed from it endlessly. Apparently, someone had turned the water to wine during the party, as it was certainly feasible magic.

Greyback spotted the wine, and he went over to the gargoyle fountain, and with his hand that was not holding the flesh, he took out his short wand. He conjured a plain goblet, and suddenly he noticed a house-elf standing in front of the fountain, standing in front, completely listless and dull, a platter resting on the elf's flat head balancing between the large floppy ears.

First Greyback grabbed some of the cheeses on the platter resting on the top of the house-elf's head. He then bent over the fountain, his hairy exposed chest, as it was shirtless skimmed the red-coloured wine. He dipped his goblet into the basin and out came a fresh cup of wine for himself. He set the goblet in the House-elf's tiny hands, and then took the flesh and cheese.

The piece of flesh was literally a foot that had once been a living muggle’s foot. Greyback saw the wet blood still oozing on the gashes of the foot, and his filthy hands wrapped it in the cheeses, and he folded the back of the foot over. It now resembled a hot dog with thick wedges of cheese strung in the middle and blood drizzling onto the cheeses like ketchup.

Greyback took the goblet back from the elf and just stood at the top of the main staircase, washing down the flesh with the red wine. He was rabid in his desire to finish his concocted sandwich of human skin and dried flesh, and he poured more of the wine on the sole of the foot, as he munched on it, getting the taste of warm, crusty bread. He finished snacking on it, licking his fingers and smacking his lips contentedly, where at the corners of his mouth were sores. He then patted his surprisingly lean stomach.

He took out another piece of flesh, this time a liver and at the same time dipped his goblet back into the fountain.

Lucius was pausing at the staircase, staring up and down the wall, from all the way up to the ceiling in crestfallen shock. He just couldn’t believe his eyes. The hundreds of venerable busts of the Malfoy lineage, which lined the main staircase all the way near to the ceiling were virtually all destroyed. Some of the busts were impossible to restore, what with shards of the remnants, laying broken up, in pieces on the stairs. Other busts had markers of color all over them, vandalized with silly inscriptions written on them, very much like muggle graffiti.

A skinny teenage boy suddenly crept up the stairs, his wand raised and a mischievous look on his face. Lucius immediately assumed he was the culprit, at least one of them who had defaced the venerable busts, the stone heads of hundreds of years of Malfoys.

Lucius became electrified with rage, his father’s old wand was wrenched from his pimp cane, and his blonde hair went flying out behind him. He ran down the steps at the boy. “Get out! Get out of my house!” he roared, aiming the wand.

The boy knew it would be wise to flee and he did so, running for the huge doors leading to the steps, heading to the peace of the gravel driveway outside.

Lucius then went stumbling back up the stairs, jamming the pathetic new wand back into his cane, that wasn’t even going to work right for him. He had been afraid to use a powerful curse on the boy, thinking it could backfire.

As he came to the top of the stairs, he saw the back of a gray shaggy head. Lucius knew it was Fenrir Greyback, noticing his head as returned to normal no longer in that vulture form. Lucius managed to smile to himself at the thought of his son who had been the one to so cleverly transfigure the werewolf.

Greyback was still nibbling on pieces of flesh as he stood in front of the gargoyle fountain of water turned into wine, and there was also still present the listless and fatigued elf standing also by the fountain, the cheese platter resting on it’s flat elf head.

Greyback turned to hear someone sliding across the floor, it was Lucius in his boots, which were making squeaking sounds. For the floor in front of the top of main staircase was now littered with blood and pieces of Greyback’s bounty he had gotten. Parched pieces of flesh and little streams of blood lay all over the floor around the fountain. Apparently, he had been dumping out his pockets, which were magically increased in size to hold more.

“This is disgusting. My elves had better clean this tomorrow. You did this, didn’t you Greyback?,” snarled Lucius.

Greyback did not answer, but dropped the goblet into the fountain and then stooped on the floor, picking up some of the scruples and restuffing into his ripped uniform.

“What? It’s just some delicious meats for the road…..Well, gotta be home getting…,” slurred Greyback, and in his loping gait he went for the stairs.

“What do you call your place of residence, Greyback? How’s life treating you in your den?,” Lucius asked with a pompous purr, still holding onto the last shreds of his aristocratic pride.

Greyback stopped on the third step, as he descended the wide stairs, and he turned around. “I’ve been taking up wizard dwellings Mr. Malfoy. For one thing, it’s a much better place to position yourself to get a bite or two every night!”

And Greyback turned away and went into the night, to which only an hour or so remained until the first signs of daybreak would commence.

“Pilosto! Come with me to the master bedchamber, I want to make sure he isn’t with Narcissa yet!,” ordered Lucius. And the elf with the cheese platter, followed his master silently. Lucius spying the platter on his head complained, “God damnit. The party is over, moron.” Lucius knocked the cheese platter off the elf’s head and it went spiraling down all the way down the stairs from Lucius’s raging blow.


Note: The next scene...has an interesting little repercussion for the whole story.