The Death Eaters didn’t care about any of that. They were happy to see others suffer, as long as it wasn’t them. So jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.
“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “Just like Sirius, who was driven out of the Black family, we — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.”
“What say you, Draco?” asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. “Will you babysit the cubs? If I asked you to go there, would you be willing to go?”
Draco Malfoy shuddered visibly at being singled out by Voldemort.
He instinctively clutched his arm and looked in terror at his father, who was staring down into his own lap, then caught his mother’s eye.
His mother shook her head almost imperceptibly, then resud her own deadpan stare at the opposite wall.
Draco either didn’t see her signal, or didn’t understand what it ant. His mind, already restless, beca clouded with panic as it slipped back into another horrible mory — the punishnt he had received last sumr because his father had failed Voldemort. The Dark Lord had exacted a heavy price on the Malfoy family.
What did Voldemort an? Werewolves? Cubs?
He wanted Draco to look after them?
Since Fenrir Greyback had been killed by Evan in the last operation, the werewolf army gathering in the underworld had fallen into chaos. What should have been the most threatening and combat-ready force under Voldemort’s command had beco a disorganized ss. They desperately needed…
No!!!
Whatever it was, Draco didn’t want anything to do with werewolves again.
He gripped his arm even tighter, and his face turned paler. Greyback was dead, and he should be free from this terrible threat.
His father had said that there would be a way, there would be a way for everything…
Because Draco delayed in answering Voldemort, the scene grew even more boisterous.
“Enough,” said Voldemort, twirling his wand in his fingers. “Enough.”
The laughter died at once, and the atmosphere turned oppressive once more.
“Many of our oldest family trees beco a little diseased over ti,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. “You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.”
“Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!”
“You shall have it,” said Voldemort, and once again his left arm twitched unnaturally. “And in your family, so in the world … we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain. … We shall establish a new order and build a new world. …”
As he spoke, Voldemort slowly raised Lucius Malfoy’s wand with his right hand, pointed it directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure ca to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.
“Do you recognize our guest, Severus?” asked Voldemort.
Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face, expressionless.
All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity.
As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, “Severus! Help !”
“Ah, yes,” said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.
“And you, Draco?” asked Voldemort, his wand-free hand twitching again.
Draco shook his head jerkily, becoming even more frightened. Now that the woman had woken, he seed unable to look at her anymore.
“Not surprising. You would not have taken her classes,” said Voldemort. “For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled.
“Yes … Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles … how they are not so different from us …”
One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again.
“Severus … please … please …”
“Silence,” said Voldemort, with another twitch of Malfoy’s wand, and Charity fell silent as if gagged. “Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the newspaper. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance. … She would have us all mate with Muggles … or, no doubt, werewolves. …”
Draco Malfoy shuddered again. He still hadn’t loosened his grip on his own arm. His mind was in chaos — one mont it was werewolves, the next it was the increasing number of black shadows appearing throughout the manor, and always, Voldemort’s terrifying laughter. All of it ultimately converged into the sa image: Dumbledore being struck by the green light of the Killing Curse and falling from the Astronomy Tower.
That was the root of all nightmares. If Dumbledore were still alive, he would have helped him; but now, he was alone and helpless. He knew that his parents wouldn’t dare defy Voldemort, and perhaps, before long, he himself would be…
Ignoring Draco Malfoy’s thoughts, after Voldemort finished speaking, this ti, nobody in the room laughed: There was no mistaking the anger and contempt in Voldemort’s voice.
For the third ti, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair, and she was begging silently.
Snape looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.
“Avada Kedavra.“
The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked.
Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs in shock. Draco fell out of his onto the floor, jolted out of his mories and into a reality even more brutal.
“Nice wand,” Voldemort whispered. “This ti, we will succeed. This world and everything on it will belong to .”
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