Title: Reflection in the Pond
Author: monitorscreen
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Voldemort, Death Eaters
Rating: G
Word count: 470
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the creation of J.K. Rowling, not mine.
Summary: How much of this is real?
Author's notes: Fic #23 for LJ comm Ficlets on Demand's Fic a Day June Challenge. Request: Left wanting by teinte.
Reflection in the Pond
by monitor screen
-o-
He should be pleased. He has everything anyone could ever want - power, fame, reverence, and loyal subjects to carry out his masterful plans. He is the great Lord Voldemort; there can be no one more superior. Even his longstanding enemy has been taken cared of tonight. No one can stop him from anything.
The Death Eaters are celebrating. In his name, of course. But as he looks on from the head of the table, he wonders how many of them do mean it. He can tell that some of them are just feeling vindicated, for taking down the one who had scorned them, patronised them, for so long. Or drunk by the sheer power, by all the possibilities now open because no one is going to fill the same role in thwarting them. Or simply gleeful for the victory. He does not think many among them are admiring his brilliance in making the plans, appreciating that it is him the victory owes to.
In the sea of merriment only three remain subdued. The two Malfoys, and Severus Snape. Young Draco because the boy is ashamed of failing his task. Fair Narcissa because she is worried about her son's punishment. And Severus...
Severus is mourning. Hiding it quite efficiently to be sure, but he has known the potions master for years - he can see it. The knowledge sends a wave of chill, of disappointment, through him. So they have come to this. How sad.
Lucius, Severus, and Bellatrix have been his favourites. They have been the finest of their generation, intelligent and dedicated, ruthless and elegant. The models of Death Eaters. Yet as time flows...
Bellatrix is laughing with Greyback down the table, rowdy and wild. Azkaban had burnt her out, leaving her with nothing but her crazed passion. She is blind to his deeper motives; disables are beneath him.
Lucius is not here. The man had schemed himself into a corner, rotting away for all he cares. It was not wise of Lucius to play tricks behind his back, especially when the man has not proved useful. The peaceful years had coddled, warped Lucius. He will not wait for the fallen to get back up.
Severus is brooding. Of the three, the potions master has been the most promising to stay the same. To be his loyal, eager protégé as before. Yet apparently the years changed Severus too, led the man astray. Severus's body may be here with them, but his mind, his soul has wandered. He does not think Severus will truly return to his side.
There go three of his best.
He should be pleased - he is victorious, he is powerful, and he has an army that will follow him. Yet somehow, as his gaze shifts along the table, he cannot feel anything but emptiness.
-o-