Shall I Jump, Sir

by Pksmiley

Wormtail was not what one would call an outstanding wizard. He was at best mediocre. But this was simple. So simple in fact that nothing could go wrong.

An Authors Note: Yeah, this is just here to buffer the word count, what of it?

A Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. At least I think I don't. You would tell me if I did, right. Right ...

'Shall I jump, sir? Or dance? I can sing if you want, sir.'

'Avada Kedavra.'

As the green glow faded from the body, Voldemort looked down at it with frustration. It looked odd on his features. It made them look stretched, his eyes bulging, and his slit nose gaping. Had it been anyone else the room of people might have laughed. But instead they trembled, and prayed not to be called next.

'Nott.' Voldemort's voice didn't hold its normal edge, nor was it quite cold enough. If given the option he himself would have called it puzzlement, perhaps tinged with a lingering curiosity. Anyone else would have recognised it as panic. Maybe they did. But if one thing could be said for certain, Voldemort's deatheaters did not achieve their positions by speaking their mind.

Voldemort raised his wand. Nott flinched.

'Crucio.'

Nott screamed, and everyone relaxed. Voldemort smiled, a horrible, cruel smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Then Nott giggled and fell to the floor twitching silently in an action no one could describe as pain, at least not the type of pain Voldemort had wanted. He was laughing. Voldemort raised his wand and Nott hiccupped, and scrambled unsteadily to his feet.

Voldemort ignored him and searched the line of deatheaters. 'Severus. Your thoughts.'

Snape strode forward, a mask of practiced indifference settled over his features. 'Perhaps,' he began slowly. 'My Lord was too hasty in selecting Wormtail for such a … delicate procedure.'

Voldemort nodded, as though Snape had merely confirmed a theory he himself had held for some time. 'Yes,' he whispered coldly. 'It is possible I suppose. Wormtail.'

Wormtail stepped forward, hunchbacked and quivering. 'Y-y-yes, my Lord.'

'It seems you have failed me, Wormtail. And Lord Voldemort rewards those who fail him, doesn't he, Wormtail.' Voldemort caressed his wand, an evil gleam in his eyes.

Wormtail trembled. 'My Lord, h-have mercy. I beg you.'

'Mercy?' Voldemort laughed, a cruel, shrill laugh. 'I think not.'

There was a rush of air, a flash of green, and Wormtail slumped, dead before he hit the ground.

'Severus,' Voldemort said in a clipped, business like tone. 'You will fix this.

Snape bowed and left, his cloak billowing behind him.

'Now,' Voldemort smiled, his mouth twisting. 'Who's next …'