A Tale of Two Brothers

Chapter 33

"Albus Dumbledore is dead, my Lord."

The words rang throughout the silent room. Shock, outrage and then disbelief filled the faces of the people standing in front of him. That surge of emotions did not even spare him.

Questions about the boy's identity, his presence and the statement soon crept in in the form of whispers, slowly chipping away the silence that had been in the room. Some started outright shouting and a few even pointed their wands at him, but even with his head bowed down, Potter looked more resolute than those standing upright surrounding him.

Voldemort did not want to believe the boy. How could he, a mere child, accomplish something like that when the most he himself had ever achieved was a scratch on the old man's neck?

"Look up."

But the truth was quite literally on the boy's face, covering the entirety of it in blood and guts.

Voldemort raised his hand to quieten the chaos that had erupted in the room. He did not say anything and continued to stare at Potter who did not flinch away from his gaze. The Death Eaters did not dare to make a sound. After a long moment, he swept into the boy's mind and watched the whole thing unfold.

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Lord Voldemort knew that the boy was someone he could never trust, even if Potter brought him the heads of his enemies until the last one died as a show of loyalty to him. Voldemort knew people like him, with a brain too good for them and wills strong enough to rival his. When he'd given him the task to kill Dumbledore, Potter actually doing it was not something he'd expected.

After skimming through the boy's mind, Voldemort had sent him and the rest of his followers away; then had ordered Carrow and Avery to go to the Ministry and St. Mungos to confirm Dumbledore's death.

He did not know how he felt when the two Death Eaters returned confirming it, with their distrust and dislike for the boy mixed with grudging respect and admiration on their faces. But he could use it. Voldemort was used to people like Potter, and he knew how to control them.

Currently, Lucius Malfoy was sitting in front of him. Though the man was still and calm, Voldemort did not miss his shifty eyes or the slight shaking of his right leg. Malfoy was nervous, which was good. Though he encouraged his Death Eaters to speak their mind at times, they needed to fear him. The old man's death was proof enough what happens when you trust someone too much. If only he could gloat to that bastard now.

"Lucius, you will be in charge of training Potter." He would have preferred Bellatrix for this task, but his loyal Death Eater was still in Azkaban.

The man before him did not look surprised, but he skeptically voiced the question that had been plaguing his mind ever since Potter had interrupted the last meeting.

"My Lord, if I may?" At the Dark Lord's nod, he continued a bit hesitantly. "Can we really trust the boy? I mean, he and that traitor Black were close growing up. What if Potter's here as a spy or--"

"Lucius, don't think I've forgotten about Regulus Black. He'll pay for what he did, but that is not something I'll think about now." Malfoy paled slightly and looked down. "Black was a traitor; Potter could be one too. But I believe he won't do that. There's a difference between him and his beloved uncle. Regulus Black killed only because he was ordered to, but he never liked it. Potter, on the other hand, enjoys it. I have seen it in his mind, he gets lost in the act. That brutality with which he killed the old man... I've seen it only in a few others."

As he talked, his familiar, Nagini slithered into the room. The way Malfoy went rigid and looked ready to run was almost comical. Voldemort hissed at her to come near.