ꜱᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴛᴏᴍɪᴏɴᴇ

The Dark Lord's Heir, ch. 1

Death Eaters watched in crippling fear as their Dark Lord exploded with rage. The Killing curse flew freely from Voldemort's wand, hitting one person after the other. Some fled while others clung to each other, too scared to move.

"You let her go, fools!" Voldemort screamed. "I only just got her back and you let Potter slip in amongst us and steal her from me!"

Once he exhausted himself, thirty or so new bodies scattered the floor, adding to the already large number of dead throughout the Atrium. He stood there staring at those who remained, gasping for air, eyes wild. He was like a furious dragon that had his horde of precious treasure stolen.

Mag, Barty, and their team of Death Eaters returned looking nervous. They had failed to find Potter and weren't eager to inform their Dark Lord. However, when they witnessed the state he was in, with dead followers at his feet and their Lady gone, they figured he must have already received the bad news. Mag was the only one brave enough to step forward. Barty stayed back with the others, watching their Lord like he could explode again any second.

"My Lord," Mag said gently, wringing his hands.

Voldemort's eyes flashed to him, making the stout man flinch.

"I had her," he said.

"I know, my Lord."

"She was in my grasp, and then she was gone." His voice came out in a pitiful moan, a sound Mag had never heard coming from his Master.

"We'll get Potter, my Lord. I swear to you."

Voldemort rounded on him and growled behind gritted teeth. "Yes, Magnus. You better get him, or it will be on your head. If not yours, then someone else's. Potter will not get away with this."

"He's as good as dead," Mag said with a deep bow. "Meanwhile, my Lord, we might want to consider your next steps."

"What are you saying?" Voldemort snapped as though he had been served a grave insult. "Nothing is more important than getting her back."

"Of course, my Lord-"

Voldemort loomed over him and Mag cowered beneath his shadow. "You think you can do a better job than me? Think you can tell me what to do?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Mag said with his hands up in a soothing gesture. "But now that you will be Minister, there are a great many things to consider. With the campsite destroyed, we have hundreds of followers that need homes, and Ministry employees that will need to return to work."

Voldemort shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. He pursed his lips, not wanting to listen but knew the Death Eater was right. However, there was only one thing he wanted at that moment, and a hot coal burned in his gut at the thought of Potter with his hands on her. The boy was going to discover what real pain is.

"We will search tirelessly for our Lady, of course, but the Wizarding World needs its Minister to lead them."

Voldemort heaved an impatient sigh but nodded once. His posture straightened as he switched from a heart-broken man back into a fearsome ruler. "Bring any remaining followers here. We will find room for them to reside until we can attain more appropriate housing. Give them work and put children back on lessons. Take a team to the Daily Prophet headquarters. We will need them to get word out that Ministry officials must return to work. If anyone at the Daily Prophet headquarters resists, kill them."

"Not everyone may come back, my Lord. Especially if they were loyal to Scrimgeour."

"All the better. Any available positions will be given to our followers."