The Domino Effect [DRARRY]

9.

I twist the truth, I rule the world, my crown is called deceit. I am the emperor of lies, you grovel at my feet. I rob you and I slaughter you, your downfall is my gain. And all my promises are lies, all my love is hate - Motorhead

Voldemort sat on his throne, Wormtail behind and slightly to the left of him, while the other Death Eaters slowly made their way forward on hands and knees to kiss the hem of his robe and swear fealty. After the last of them had crawled back to his place and the chamber was silent, he stood, and, looking down with malice, addressed his followers. "What news is there of young Malfoy?"

Two of the gathered masked men looked up to their Lord in fear before one nudged the other into speaking. "The - the attack on Potter went as scheduled, my Lord, but Malfoy was not present." The Death Eater, one Gregory Goyle Senior, swallowed in fear as Voldemort's eyes glowed red.

"And why is that, Goyle? Is your son so incompetent that he couldn't follow one simple order and bring Malfoy into the plan?"

Goyle shook his head in fear. "No, my Lord. Malfoy disappeared after the game, the boys thought it was best to go on without him."

Voldemort stepped down from his dais and approached the quivering man in front of him. "And did they forget," he hissed, "that this was a test of young Draco's loyalty? Did they not think it better to wait until Malfoy was present?" Voldemort didn't wait for an answer, instead he raised his wand and pointed it at Goyle.

"CRUCIO!"

~!~

There were some things that Severus Snape hated about his life. Teaching children who had no appreciation for his gift was one of them, bowing down to Voldemort was another. He had been on his way to see the Headmaster when he'd been summoned, and so now, instead of talking to Dumbledore about what was going on with Draco and Harry, he was kneeling on a cold stone floor, watching as Goyle Senior thrashed under the Cruciatus curse.

The impromptu meeting had at least quelled some of his fears for Draco's safety, but it raised a few for Potter's. He would be happy when the boy finally got over himself and just ended this whole bloody thing. As his teacher, trainer, and fellow Order member, Snape knew that Harry was more than ready to face Voldemort, that when the inevitable happened, Potter would be victorious.

The boy just had to get over his own morals and realize that it wasn't about him, that there were other people involved. If it made him a murderer to walk up to the Dark Lord and kill him outright, did his inability to do just that not also make him a murderer? Was he not responsible for every life that Voldemort and his followers took by simply not acting? Did the blood that coated Snape's hands not also coat Potter's?

Snape's musings were cut short as Voldemort lifted the curse from Goyle and fixed his beady red eyes on him instead.

"Severus," he hissed, "come forward."

Snape crawled to his master's feet and then waited, eyes downcast.

"It has come to my attention that you have punished my initiates for their actions on the Potter boy. Why is that?"

Snape managed to look contrite as he lifted his eyes from the floor. "They were sloppy. They left Potter still tied in the change room; they didn't even conceal themselves. If I hadn't happened by when I did and found the boy - not to mention Obliviate him - he could have gone to Dumbledore. Then the students would have been expelled, or put in Azkaban. They needed to be taught a lesson."

Voldemort smiled - a particularly scary sight on a man with no lips - and Snape wondered if he were about to be cursed. "Indeed they did, Severus. You have done well."