𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the descent to madness

"True evil is charming, charismatic, manipulative and seductive."

•

HIS DEATH EATERS were already acting on their own, I realized as I sat at the high table on the very seat next to Voldemort. Everyone was cold and apprehensive of my presence at the right of Voldemort.

"Great work on the Ministry, by the way," I spoke up. The table was in scattered conversations anyway as seven different house elves served us a variety of food. They were delicious, but I wondered how appetite worked when tortured screams of prisoners tore through the walls ever so often.

"You believe so?" Tom turned his eyes to me, carefully placing his fork and knife on his nearly empty plate. He fixed his red eyes on mine and let me fish for an answer.

"Of course," I grinned, uncharacteristically for a Death Eater-that I keep forgetting I am. "Using Pius Thicknessesse as your puppet Minister even though it's your Ministry-ingenius!" I sipped some wine from my flute. "Staying in the shadows is the best way to manipulate a crowd who don't really want you."

His facial structure hardened. I could feel the gaze of about twenty Death Eaters on the back of my head. I tried not to shiver. "They don't want me, did you say?"

"Of course, they don't," I said. I could feel Lucius Malfoy next to me, a few seats down, wishing he had a wand so he could silencio me. "They're terrified of you. You've terrorized their homes for so many years, stolen children and parents from parents and children," I raised an eyebrow. "They're scared of you power. So, putting Pius on the stand, making it look like he'd the Minister when it's actually you, genius. This was you can run your Ministry and not be on the spotlight. Although," I frowned a little. "This might remain the case forever-you ruling everyone from the shadows."

The knife, that was back on his hand as he attempted to cut a piece of steak, started quivering and bending slightly. He might throw it at me. I extended my arm, wrapping my fingers around his wrist, feeling him stiffen like a rock beneath my touch. "I can change that," I said quietly. The whole table seemed to have gone completely quiet, without even breathing, at the sigh of me touching-actually touching-their Dark Lord.

"Is that so, Firegold?" He asked, the bald patch above his eyes twitching.

"Yes," I said, recoiling, thinking I'd need to cleanse my hands and mind with holy water after this encounter. "I'd also say, your idea of turning Harry as the villain of the story, not that I support it, but it was good. Especially since most of the population didn't witness it, don't know first hand exactly how Dumbledore was murdered," I said quietly, big hazel eyes looking into his. "Everyone's in the dark, no one knows exactly what to believe. And most dimwitted fools believe whatever they read on the Prophet and Witch Weekly. Most will believe it if it calls Harry in for questioning for Dumbledore's murder."

"I appreciate that you think so, Firegold," he said. The table was still holding their breath. Just a few more moments and then I can just drop my newfound bomb on his balding head.

"Thank you," I grinned again. I almost smirked when he winced slightly at the brightness of my actions. "But Muggleborn Register?"

"What about it?" asked Yaxley across the table bitterly. Voldemort looked at him, probably wondering who gave him permission to speak. "Apologies, my Lord."