Dinner at Malfoy Manor

26.6K 1.1K 1.4K
                                    


Dinner Malfoy Manor



A black stone ring was upon Voldemort's hand. Severus could hardly keep his eyes off it as the Dark Lord moved his goblet to his mouth at the head of the long dinner table at the Malfoy's manor. Severus sat toward the end of the row, quietly taking everything in, his mother beside him, staring at Voldemort in the same rapt adoration as beheld the face of Bellatrix Lestrange across the way. Eileen Prince owed Voldemort everything.

Severus ate slowly. The food served at Malfoy manor was rich and thick and heavier even than the food at Hogwarts, and it often made Severus's stomach ache. Even after a month of eating the delicacies that the Malfoy's considered mundane, he was still not used to it. He pushed a bite of the greasy duck around his plate with his fork.

Voldemort's ring flashed again as he moved his hands, making Severus's eyes dart back up to him, rather than his food. A wicked grin had crossed the cold, dark-featured face as he had peered about the others at the table. "My friends," the Dark Lord cooed, reaching out a hand to touch the giant snake that had coiled and twisted her way onto his shoulders, like a great slithering mantel. "I am most pleased to share such a marvelous fare as this with all of you. Thank you, again, Abraxus, for hosting."

They had supped with the Death Eaters at the Malfoy's several times since Severus had been living there, but Abraxus Malfoy had never once seen put out. Quite the opposite, the look of pleasure on his face from being recognized by the Dark Lord was most complete. "Yes, my Lord," he breathed, "Any time at all, my Lord."

Voldemort stood then, the snake staying on his shoulders, draping across him, hissing, her tongue flickering like a flame from her scaley mouth. The chair he'd been in scraped across the floor, and he started to walk slowly around the table, gently laying his hands on the shoulders of each person he passed, as though he were counting them or claiming them for his own. "The Ministry of Magic has begun a campaign," he said, "As many of you know -- thanks to the owls they sent out this morning." He withdrew a pamphlet from his robes and waved it about. Snickers rose from some of the Death Eaters. Voldemort threw the pamphlet onto the table and it slid along the silk tablecloth until it had come to rest a few inches from Severus's plate. "Thispropaganda is being headed by none other than the current headmaster of Hogwarts - Albus Dumbledore, the old fool who is responsible for shaping the minds of wizarding children." He sneered at the pamphlet as he rounded the end of the table, his fingers lingering over Severus's shoulders, as though to draw their attention to him - one of the wizarding children in question - before moving on.

Severus's eyes moved to the pamphlet. It was gold and purple and said The Muggle Liaison Coalition on the top. Beneath the headline was an illustration of a wizard hugging a Muggle family, a look of benign happiness on the muggle faces.

"This literature," Voldemort said thickly, "Claims that muggles are to be treated no differently than wizards. We are to be obligated to protect muggles. Mudbloods should be given the same rights and allowances as we are."

"Rubbish," laughed Orion Black, his thick mustache wobbling beneath his nose, a bit too much mead in his blood to keep the word from blurring around the edges. "Absolute filth." Walburga Black lay a hand across his wrist to still him.

Voldemort placed his hands on Bellatrix Lestrange's shoulders. She grinned and melted into him like butter that had been placed too close to the stove, a look of rapture playing in her features. Her husband, Rudolphus, glanced out of the corner of his eyes with a mild expression of jealousy. His wife had never looked quite like that at his touch. "The blood traitors cannot be allowed to continue on spreading their lies to the wizarding community as they have done," Voldemort said, voice so slick his voice was nearly a whisper. They need to be stopped." His hands slipped away from Bellatrix as he moved on and her full lips drooped into an almost comical pout.

The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now