Obsession

Chapter 4

"Pardon me... My Lord?"

Voldemort turned round at the sound of Abraxas Malfoy's voice and threw up an eyebrow. He had to maintain some level of rapport with the man, he knew, seeing as how he'd essentially commandeered the family's estate as his headquarters. Still, Malfoy was his servant, so Voldemort shot him an imperious look. Malfoy asked nervously,

"May I have a private meeting, Master? Very brief, I assure you."

"Come into my office," Voldemort said in a bored voice. He led Malfoy down the corridor until he reached the heavy door that led to his capacious office, and he gestured for Malfoy to sit. When Voldemort sank into his own chair, the cold rain lashing the expansive windows behind him, he shrugged. "Well?"

"My Lord, I do not at all mean to question your judgment in placing Rodolphus Lestrange on my squad for the upcoming mission," Malfoy began cautiously, "but these last three days, he has been utterly distracted. In our rehearsals for the ambush, he has been mentally elsewhere. He isn't paying attention during meetings. I fear, Master, that something is bothering him to the point where he may be more a liability than a help."

Voldemort sucked on his teeth and tried not to show any emotion. He turned his chair a little and stared out the window at the rain.

"Did you ask him what's distracting him?"

"I did, My Lord," Malfoy said, "but he asserts there is nothing at all troubling him. I confess I do not believe him."

"And so you'd like him replaced on the mission," Voldemort nodded. "Very well. Take your nephew Maximus instead. I'll speak with Lestrange."

"Thank you, My Lord." Malfoy sounded very relieved, and Voldemort flicked his fingers toward the door to dismiss him. Once Malfoy had gone, Voldemort pressed his wand to his own Dark Mark and shut his eyes, Summoning Rodolphus Lestrange through the ether.

A few long moments later, there was a black blur on the rainy gardens outside, and Voldemort watched as Rodolphus Lestrange approached the manor. He waited then, knowing it would take time for Lestrange to get inside and up to his office. When the knock on his door sounded, he barked,

"Enter."

Rodolphus came in, soaking wet and sorrowful in appearance, and bowed his head. Voldemort scowled and nonverbally dried Lestrange off. He didn't want the man dripping water all over his office. He pointed at the chair opposite him, and when Rodolphus sat, he could see that the man hadn't been sleeping or eating well. It was obvious from the dark circles beneath his eyes, the sallow, yellowish tinge to his skin. Voldemort cleared his throat and said tightly,

"You've been pulled from the mission to destroy the Muggle village. I'll hear no argument on the matter. Now, tell me. Why is it that Abraxas Malfoy says you've been distracted to the point of uselessness?"

Rodolphus blinked a few times and shook his head minutely.

"I'm sorry, Master," he mumbled. "I shall focus my -"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Legilimens." Voldemort had no time for simpering, so he crashed straight into Rodolphus' mind and searched for the source of his discomfort.

She was so wet and warm and tight, just like always. Rodolphus felt a surge of love go through his veins. How had he lucked out like this, to marry Bella of all witches? He moved his hips against her and pressed his lips to her neck, breathing in the warm aroma of her soft skin. But then, out of nowhere -

"Oh... oh, My Lord! Master!"

Voldemort yanked himself from Rodolphus mind and cleared his throat softly. Rodolphus looked like he was going to be sick, and he stared down at his lap. Voldemort turned to stare out the window again, just like he'd done with Malfoy.