Interviewing Death Eaters about their potential treachery, Marquas discovered, was rather like performing dental work on a dragon, technically possible, but fraught with the constant risk of being incinerated for your troubles. Over the past two weeks, he had conducted "loyalty assessments" with eight of Voldemort's inner circle, each session more precarious than the last.
Bellatrix had spent their entire interview alternating between professing fanatical devotion to "her Lord" and thinly veiled threats about what would happen to anyone who questioned said devotion. She'd recited poetry she'd written about Voldemort's "glorious vision", three excruciating hours of verses that made teenage love sonnets sound like Shakespeare. Marquas had filed this under "psychological torture techniques to study later."
Dolohov had maintained stoic silence punctuated by cryptic statements about "necessary sacrifices." The Carrow siblings had competed to out-creep each other with detailed descriptions of their favorite torture techniques,apparently meant to demonstrate their commitment to the cause, but mostly succeeding in making Marquas reconsider his lunch choices.
"I'm starting to think Evil Villain Monthly needs to publish an article on conversation topics beyond torture and world domination," he'd muttered to himself after that particularly disturbing session. "Perhaps 'Ten Dark Hobbies That Don't Involve Screaming.'"
Today's subject was Fenrir Greyback, which presented its own unique challenges. The notorious werewolf wasn't technically part of the inner circle, but his control over the werewolf packs made him a valuable enough ally for Voldemort to include him in the investigation.
"I still don't understand why I'm being questioned," Greyback growled, his yellow eyes fixed on Marquas with predatory intensity. They were meeting in a secluded cabin in the Forbidden Forest, neutral territory that offered privacy while minimizing the risk of either party feeling trapped. "I'm not even marked."
"This isn't an accusation, merely standard procedure," Marquas replied smoothly, maintaining eye contact despite the werewolf's intimidation tactics. "The Dark Lord values your contribution too highly to exclude you from any aspect of our operations, including security protocols."
The flattery was calculated. Greyback, like most of Voldemort's allies, harbored resentment about his secondary status. Implying that he was considered equal to the marked Death Eaters soothed that particular insecurity.
"Fine," Greyback muttered, leaning back in his chair. "Ask your questions, then. But make it quick. Full moon's tomorrow, and I've got preparations to make."
Yes, I'm sure selecting children to attack requires extensive planning, Marquas thought darkly, but kept his expression neutral as he proceeded with the interview.
Unlike his sessions with the marked Death Eaters, this meeting had a secondary purpose beyond gathering intelligence or maintaining his cover. Marquas had specifically scheduled Greyback's interview for the day before the full moon for a very particular reason, one that sat in a small vial in his pocket, waiting for the right moment.
That moment came when Greyback, growing increasingly agitated with the questioning, demanded refreshment. "If you're going to keep me here answering your tedious questions, Snape, the least you could offer is a drink."
"Of course," Marquas agreed, summoning the bottle of firewhisky and glasses he'd prepared in advance. "My apologies for the oversight."
As he poured the amber liquid, Marquas performed a wandless, nonverbal switching spell, a technique he'd been practicing extensively for just such an occasion. The contents of the small vial in his pocket seamlessly replaced a portion of the whisky in Greyback's glass, the difference imperceptible to the eye. Even if Greyback had been watching for sleight-of-hand, Marquas's execution was flawless, the result of countless hours practicing on increasingly suspicious house-elves who eventually refused to accept any beverages from him whatsoever.
"To clarity," Marquas proposed, raising his own glass in a toast.
Greyback snorted but drank deeply, draining half the glass in one swallow. "Fine. Let's get this over with. No, I'm not your traitor. No, I don't know who is. And no, I don't particularly care as long as it doesn't affect my arrangement with the Dark Lord."
"Refreshingly direct," Marquas commented. "Most Death Eaters take at least forty-five minutes to reach that level of candor, usually after exhausting their entire vocabulary of sinister euphemisms."
The interview continued for another twenty minutes, during which Greyback consumed the remainder of his doctored whisky and provided surprisingly useful intelligence about werewolf movements and Ministry patrol patterns. Throughout, Marquas watched for signs that his special additive was taking effect.
The potion was his own creation, an experimental variation on the Wolfsbane Potion, which wouldn't be widely available for years in the original timeline. But where traditional Wolfsbane allowed a werewolf to maintain human consciousness during transformation, Marquas's version included a powerful mood-altering component designed specifically for Greyback.
The first sign of its effectiveness came when Greyback, mid-rant about his plans to "teach the Ministry's lapdogs a lesson tomorrow night," suddenly paused and frowned, as if losing his train of thought.
"You were saying?" Marquas prompted, carefully maintaining his impassive expression.
"I... hmm." Greyback rubbed his forehead. "What was I... oh, yes. Tomorrow's hunt. But perhaps..." A confused look passed over his face. "Perhaps we should consider a different approach."
"Different how?" Marquas asked, feigning casual interest while internally celebrating the potion's apparent success.
"Well," Greyback said slowly, looking almost bewildered by his own thoughts, "violence isn't always the answer, is it? Maybe a more... diplomatic approach? Show wizards that werewolves can be... civilized?"
It was all Marquas could do to keep from smirking. The potion was working perfectly, subtly altering Greyback's aggressive tendencies without being so dramatic as to alert him that he'd been drugged. By tomorrow night, the infamous werewolf would approach the full moon with unprecedented calmness and introspection rather than his usual bloodlust.
"An interesting perspective," Marquas commented neutrally. "The Dark Lord values strategic thinking as well as strength."
"Yes, strategy," Greyback nodded, seeming relieved to have his uncharacteristic thoughts framed this way. "That's it exactly. Strategic... restraint."
By the time they concluded the interview, Greyback appeared noticeably disoriented not enough to suspect magical interference, but enough that his typical aggressive exit was replaced by an almost thoughtful departure, complete with a puzzlingly polite "thank you for the whisky."
As soon as the werewolf was beyond the wards, Marquas allowed himself a satisfied smile. If his calculations were correct, Greyback and his pack would spend tomorrow night's full moon engaged in uncharacteristically peaceful activities, a welcome respite for the communities that typically lived in terror of their monthly attacks.
It wasn't a permanent solution to the Greyback problem, but it would save lives tomorrow night. And that was enough for now.
••••
"You did what?" Regulus asked incredulously when they met later that evening at their Cokeworth headquarters. "Drugged Fenrir Greyback the night before a full moon? Are you actively trying to get yourself murdered in creative ways?"
"It was a calculated risk," Marquas replied, sorting through the notes from his Death Eater interviews. "The potion is subtle enough that he'll attribute any behavioral changes to his own decision-making. By the time he realizes something unusual happened, the evidence will be long gone from his system."
"And what exactly will this potion make him do?" Regulus pressed, still looking concerned despite his evident fascination with the plan.
Marquas allowed himself a small smile. "Nothing dramatic. He'll simply find himself more interested in contemplative activities than hunting children. The mood-altering component creates a temporary preference for calmness over aggression, while the modified Wolfsbane elements help maintain that human consciousness during transformation."
"So instead of terrorizing villages, he'll do what, read poetry and contemplate the meaning of life?"
"Something like that," Marquas nodded. "I expect he'll find himself drawn to quiet, peaceful environments. Perhaps enjoying a cup of tea while leafing through intellectual literature."
The mental image of Fenrir Greyback, notorious child-biter and self-proclaimed "monster among monsters" sitting calmly with a cup of tea and a copy of "Witch Weekly" was apparently too much for Regulus, who burst into laughter.
"A werewolf tea party," he managed between chuckles. "Merlin's beard, Snape, you have the strangest methods of fighting dark wizards I've ever encountered."
"Unconventional problems require unconventional solutions," Marquas replied with a shrug, though he couldn't help sharing in Regulus's amusement. "Besides, can you imagine Voldemort's reaction when he hears his attack dog spent the full moon discussing philosophy instead of spreading terror?"
"He'll be furious," Regulus nodded, sobering slightly. "Which could be dangerous for Greyback and potentially for you if he suspects interference."
"Hence the subtlety of the potion," Marquas explained. "It mimics natural mood fluctuations rather than obvious magical control. Greyback will experience the change as his own choice, not external influence. By the time anyone questions it, there will be no magical signature to trace."
They moved on to discussing the progress of their Horcrux detection spell, which was showing promising results in laboratory testing. Using the residual magic from the destroyed locket, Regulus had created a modified version of a standard dark object detector that resonated specifically with the unique magical signature of soul fragments. The Horcrux detection spell is crucial to him, what if the events unfolded differently from the original canon? Then, it could become the key to tracing the remaining Horcruxes' locations.
"It still has limited range," Regulus explained, demonstrating the wand movement required to activate the spell. "About thirty feet maximum. But it should be enough for targeted searches of specific locations."
"Perfect for our Hogwarts expedition," Marquas nodded. "Which brings me to the logistics. Getting you into the castle undetected won't be simple, but I believe I've found a solution."
He outlined his plan: using the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend as cover, Regulus would enter Hogwarts through the secret passage from Honeydukes' cellar, disguised with both Polyjuice Potion and additional glamour charms as extra security. Marquas would ensure the seventh-floor corridor was clear, allowing them access to the Room of Requirement to search for Ravenclaw's diadem.
"Assuming we find it, how do we destroy it?" Regulus asked. "Fiendfyre is effective but notoriously difficult to control, and basilisk venom isn't exactly available at the apothecary."
"I've been working on that," Marquas replied, retrieving a small wooden box from his work table. Inside, nestled in protective silk, lay a silver dagger with runes etched along its blade. "This is still experimental, but the theory is sound. I've infused the blade with a potion that replicates some properties of basilisk venom, not as powerful as the genuine article, but potentially strong enough to damage a Horcrux beyond magical repair."
Regulus examined the dagger with professional appreciation. "Impressive spellwork. The runic sequences are... Albanian? Interesting choice."
"Albanian magical traditions have a particularly relevant approach to soul magic," Marquas explained, carefully navigating around his foreknowledge that Voldemort would eventually hide in Albanian forests. "Their concept of binding and severance aligns well with our purpose."
They spent the next hour finalizing details for the Hogwarts infiltration, scheduled for the following weekend. As they worked, Marquas couldn't help noticing how naturally they had fallen into this partnership, Regulus's pureblood magical knowledge complementing his own strategic thinking and innovative approach.
"By the way," Regulus said as they were concluding, "any progress on your Death Eater investigation? Beyond drugging werewolves into philosophical contemplation, that is."
"Actually, yes," Marquas replied, retrieving a sealed folder from his cloak. "I've compiled enough evidence to present Avery as our likely leak. Documented inconsistencies in his reports, unexplained absences around compromised operations, and suspicious financial transactions that could indicate Ministry payoffs."
"Is any of it true?" Regulus asked, raising an eyebrow.
"About sixty percent," Marquas admitted. "The financial irregularities are genuine, though likely due to gambling debts rather than bribes. The timeline inconsistencies are factual but have innocent explanations. I've simply... recontextualized the facts to suggest a pattern of betrayal."
Regulus frowned slightly. "And you're comfortable with this? Essentially condemning a man for crimes he didn't commit?"
It was a fair question, one that Marquas had struggled with himself. "Comfortable? No. But Avery has committed plenty of actual crimes for which he'll never face justice. His hands are far from clean in this war."
"True enough," Regulus acknowledged. "I suppose in a conflict like this, traditional morality becomes something of a luxury."
"I prefer to think of it as triage," Marquas replied quietly. "Sacrificing one Death Eater's welfare may save dozens of innocent lives. It's not a choice I make lightly, but it's one I can defend, even to myself."
The conversation left Marquas in a contemplative mood as he returned to Hogwarts that night. He was a simple man living quietly in Europe, carrying out his duties with calm precision. The only blood he'd ever seen was in hospitals. Deception wasn't his skill, nor could he imagine taking a life. His modest existence had one purpose: to give Snape the peaceful life and recognition he deserved after years of suffering. Yet somehow, he found himself becoming central to the approaching war. Defeating Voldemort was never his responsibility. If life had granted him a second chance, why should he fight others' battles? And yet he did, so Harry Potter's generation might know peace.
He never sought the Philosopher's Stone to extend his life, nor chased the Deathly Hallows to conquer death. In this world, only two things truly mattered to him: the diary that held his secrets, and perhaps, in a quiet corner of his heart, Regulus Black. Perhaps he saw a reflection of his younger brother in Regulus, the brother he lost long ago to the ocean tides.
He wasn't this world's hero. this was reality, not some tale. He understood a fundamental truth: pursuing power, love, and fame only led to conflict and bloodshed. He made no claims to heroism, he was simply someone who understood the cost and chose a different path.
The moral complexities of his position grew more challenging with each passing week. Where did one draw the line between necessary compromise and corrupting expediency? How many ethical concessions could be made in service to a greater good before that good itself became compromised?
These were questions without easy answers, questions that the simplified morality of the original books had never fully explored.