Silk Roads

Chapter 11

Chapter 11: You-Know-Who, and Disaster field trip

April 1967
Location: Slytherin Manor

Sitting near the fireplace with a glass of firewhisky in hand, Voldemort stared into the flickering flames deep in thought, the fire creating shadows around the dimly lit room. His face held no semblance of emotion, and with his too still form, one would think him a doll –a very handsome realistic one.

With elegance that many would envy, he lifted the glass to his lips –lips that many could only dream of kissing– and took a sip, relishing the burn his alcoholic beverage provided.

Abraxas seemed to have everything going well for him in his political career, and Voldemort had ordered his blonde ex-schoolmate to court the members of the Wizengamot into siding with him, and also introducing him into the world of politics. There were bills Voldemort wanted them to approve of –like Wizarding orphanages for starters.

He would be playing in both fields –politician and Dark Lord.

If the blonde were to fail his given task, Voldemort would make an example out of him, though Abraxas would only be losing a limb or two seeing that his heir was still too young to be of any real use.

Whilst still on the thought of the Malfoy family, Voldemort lips twisted in displeasure. Vevila, the Malfoy matriarch, was becoming more than a little infuriating. Every time he called his inner circle for a meeting, she would openly ogle him. It was disturbing and even after a round of Crucio, her disrespect still showed in the form of a lecherous stare.

He was tempted to mind rape her, but she still has her uses –being his Potions' Master and infiltration specialist. Her mediocre potions' skill would only worsen and he had no other followers that could best her in potions' making just yet. It was not as if his skills were inferior to hers, quite the contrary actually, but he was just too busy to brew potions all day in preparation for any injuries in the future. He made a mental note to get a list of competent Potions' Masters from Vevila the next day.

With a slight tilt of his head, a few strands of his dark locks came loose and brushed against his cheek. His long fingers tugged the wayward strands and slipped them behind his left ear smoothly as his lips formed a slight smirk at the thought of his non-human allies.

The Dementors were excited and Voldemort was slightly put off at the cause of it. He had of course made a visit to Azkaban a few weeks ago to speak with the Lord of Dementors, but the answer he received was a highly disturbing one –Master is providing us with more brothers and sisters. But since those cloak wearing positive emotion stealers were still upholding their part of the bargain (their aid in exchange for souls of those who defy him), he just shrugged it off (though still cautious) and decided that it was just a Dementor thing.

The Werewolves on the other hand were a headache to deal with. The few times he visited, he had to glare those overgrown mutts into submission when they persisted in trying to convince him that being a werewolf would only benefit him –they conveniently forgotten that he would lose his mind during the full moon, not to mention the pains of transformation. Fenrir would only bark out a hideous laugh as he watched on at the sidelines –the Alpha was carefree and would do absolutely nothing unless one of his packmates were bold enough to attack Voldemort, and vice versa of course.

They were easy to convince, seeing as they only wanted a land that they can call their own to roam free without restrictions (a reserve for when they transform), and that their kind could walk in the streets without getting killed (basically Werewolf legalization). They also wanted their young ones (that were Magical) to be able to attend Hogwarts, which he didn't mind except on one condition, they had to be locked up in the dungeons when it's the full moon –they agreed, albeit reluctantly.