Our Prize (Harry Potter fanfic)

19

Voldemort didn't know why but the sight of this man sent chills of fear up and down his spine. There was something about him that set him on edge. Maybe it was the cold, unforgiving piercing blue eyes that glare right back at him. Or the firm, emotionless frown plastered on his lips. But whatever it is, made Voldemort actually want to cower and hide. Lyle was the first person (except Dumbledore) to make him feel more like a child about to tell an adult he did something bad in quite some time. Finally Voldemort found his voice as he tried to hide his fear of this man. 

"Your name is Lyle, right?" he asked.

"Correct." the man answered. 

"So Lyle what is it you require of me?" The Dark Lord asked. Lyle leaned up in his chair. 

"Simple. You are going to do as Fenrir has asked of you and remove your Death Eaters from our woods. Whoever goes into our woods will now belong with the Werewolves," 

"I beg your pardon? That's..." 

"Don't interrupt me, Boy." Lyle growled. Voldemort wanted to shout back, wanted to remind this Half Breed who was in charge... But Lyle had a vibe that pour from him that demanded respect and would gladly put you in your place if you were to mess with him or show any sign of disrespect to his title. So Voldemort held his tongue. There was also something about him that felt a bit familiar but it wouldn't click in his head. But it was something in his appearance... in his sharp, cold toned voice that was clicking something that was so close yet so far to understand what it was. 

"As I was saying, remove the Death Eaters, whoever comes into the woods belongs to us now, and I  never want you or any of your people to lay a hand on anybody who is a Werewolf. Never want any of you to discriminate against us if we need to get something from the stores, which will be rarely trust me. Werewolves do fine on their own in the woods. Most of all, I want you and your Death Eaters to leave my Granddaughter, Hermione, alone. Do I make myself clear?" Lyle asked. Voldemort gulped as he nodded his head. 

"Yes, I understand." Voldemort claimed. The man smirked while he stood up. 

"It's good we have an understanding. Because I control  over four hundred and thirty thousand people, who are willing to do whatever to ensure they aren't chained down. And if they feel their families are threatened, well... people are known to do horrible things to make sure their families will be safe." Lyle warned as he fixed his jacket. Voldemort tightened his grip onto the arm of his chair but kept his mouth shut. Lyle then turned his back towards the Dark Lord and proceeded to head out of the room. It was then Voldemort mind came with a thought... 

Who did Lyle remind him of?