The Mudblood

Chapter 120 : Year 6

This fanart of Lainey was drawn by https://www.quotev.com/29539952 (:

Though the events of Garren's wedding had left me feeling rather melancholy, the next few days at Malfoy Manor could have been classified as cheerful compared to most. When I wasn't being demolished by Draco in chess or being tutored by Draco in Arithmancy or being tutored by Draco's mother in how to properly be Draco's wife, I spent my free time in the kitchen with Sorry the house elf. I cooked what I intended to be exquisite meals but just ended up being mediocre dishes for Luna, and the house elf and I would bring the food down and dine with her in the cellar. The visits were brief, mostly because after twenty minutes I would start having hallucinations that Evan was starving and crying in a puddle, but I hoped that our short company was enough to keep Luna from going insane. There were a few other inmates locked in the cellar, but I selfishly avoided looking at them to prevent guilt from overwhelming me.

By Christmas Eve, Sorry and I had finally concocted the dessert that we'd been fruitlessly attempting to create for the past four days. Even the timid elf sported a semi-devious smirk as we escorted the cupcakes from the kitchen to the drawing room, where our great Dark Lord was hosting a meeting with all of his important followers. Draco and I had, of course, not been invited.

Sorry and I waited outside the open doorway, peeking in on the Death Eaters who sat around the table that Charity Burbage had been eaten on. Voldemort was positioned at the head, listening idly as Corban Yaxley reported on happenings within the Ministry of Magic. I heard the name Urquhart, and I was momentarily curious if Brian Urquhart's father had been put under the Imperius Curse or not, but we weren't here to eavesdrop tonight.

"Can you do it?" I asked Sorry, referring to the plan we'd hashed out earlier that day.

"Sorry," he said, but by that he meant "yes" because a moment later, the platter of green-frosted cupcakes disappeared from my hands and then reappeared on the drawing room table.

Voldemort didn't blink, and Yaxley didn't stop his rambling; the house elves often sent food from the kitchen while the Death Eaters were engaged in meetings, and apparently the Dark Lord didn't think much of these cupcakes that were decorated with snakes. Amycus Carrow's face lit up, though, and Crabbe Sr. was already leaning across the table to retrieve one. Voldemort seemed annoyed, but he said nothing as his subjects retrieved the desserts and gobbled them up. It wasn't until Crabbe finished his first cupcake that there was a true flicker in the Dark Lord's expression.

"Silence," he snapped at Yaxley, who immediately clamped his mouth shut. Crabbe was munching on his second cupcake, oblivious to the fact that his master was glaring at him with slivered eyes.

"Ay, what happened to yer nose!" Amycus exclaimed, peering over at Crabbe with protuberant eyes. The more rotund Death Eater finished shoving his second cupcake into his mouth before bringing his hand up to his nose and finding that it had disappeared; where there had once been bone and cartilage, there were now only two snake-like slits.

"What—happened to your nose?" Crabbe repeated, staring at Amycus, whose nose had also flattened.

Murmurs filled the drawing room as everyone stared at each other, baffled as to why they were all as noseless as their Dark Lord. The few who hadn't eaten any of the cupcakes, which we'd laced with Fred and George's No Nose Nuggets, and had managed to maintain their noses were looking particularly nervous. Sorry and I were struggling to keep our snickers mute out in the corridor.

Voldemort had his wand in his hand now, and silence permeated the drawing room as he slid his finger over the bone white wood. "Is this meant to be a mockery?" he asked no one in particular, but they all shook their heads. Sorry and I had sobered out in the hallway, and there was a sensation of dread snaking through me. "Crabbe? Did you order the house elves to bake these sweets as a device of ridicule against your Dark Lord?"