Of Doves and Dragons

Chapter Twenty-nine: Unraveling

"I tried carrying the weight of the world, but I only have two hands."

-Avicii, Wake Me Up

The Malfoy men seemed concerned with the rare, singular, call. Ember was not surprised, terrified sure, but not surprised. She took a deep breath and pushed her chair away from the table. She swallowed thickly, avoiding Draco's eyes, and looked to Lucius. "How will I know where to go?"

She had never been called before, neither had Draco- not really. "Just apparate, The mark will take you to him." He responded sullenly.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but she didn't wait for it. She turned on the spot and dissaparated right from the dining room.

~

She arrived in a desolate room. It was devoid of anything; furniture, plants, light; nothing but peeling paint and rusted floorboards. Five Death Eaters were standing in different corners; Dolohov, Alecto Carrow, Macnair, and Bellatrix along with another Death Eater she had never truly been introduced to.

Voldemort, in all his glory, turned his torso at the defining crack that signified her entrance. His body was hunched over another. An older main laid at his feet, his body bent and broken in inhumane ways, splotches of blood streaking over his pale skin. His greying hair was blown around his wrinkled, battered, face. Bushy eyebrows, that perhaps once were used with conviction, were now completely unanimated. The man looked to her as well, with tragic eyes, not seeming to be pleased with her interruption of his torture.

Voldemort grinned. "Oh wonderful! Enigma you found your way to us, and earlier than I expected you to. Give me a moment and we'll continue on." He turned back towards his prey and sent another seizing jolt of pain through the man.

Ember tore her eyes from the horrible scene and instead looked to the other Death Eaters standing bored around the room. A few of them had scratches on their faces and she wondered what they had already been up to this evening. She crossed her arms under her chest, hoping that it presented a resolute front, and tried to ignore the man's screams.

Bellatrix cackled, the only Death Eater to be seemingly thriving at the scene. "Oh come on Scrimgeour!" She jeered nastily. "You can fight better than that!"

"Bella!" Voldemort chastised but chuckled nonetheless at the man underneath his bare feet.

Ember gulped upon realizing that the Minister for Magic was being mutilated to death a few feet from her and hating herself that there was nothing she could do to save him.

Slowly Scrimgeour's broken body ceased its twitching; his chest only contracting pain filled breaths. Voldemort paused in his inflictions and sighed, as if disappointed, before flicking his wand half-heartedly and sealing the Minister's fate. Green flashed and the Minister's chest stopped all movement, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the cracking ceiling.

Voldemort took a moment to gather himself, shedding the events off his shoulders, and once again turned around to face his compatriots, Ember unfortunately included amongst them. "Now, on to the main event, my friends!" He grinned, opening his arms welcomingly. Ember winced, thinking that if that was the opening act, what could possibly be instore for the rest of the night?

His crimson eyes found her again. "You remember your purpose Enigma?"

She met his stare with bravery she didn't know she possessed and nodded her head silently. He smirked at her before vanishing like smoke. She gaped at the spot he left, unsure of what exactly was going on.

She glanced to see Dolohov, Macnair, and Rowle apparated behind their master. Bellatrix approached her quickly and looped her spiny arm around Ember's and pulled her along in side-by-side apparation.