Nagini was curled tightly by Voldemort's feet. Her eyes were closed as she rested by the crackling fire. The pale man placed a crystal goblet down onto the table and swallowed the acidic wine. With a fork and knife, he cut his steak into a small square and held it to his nose and sniffed.
"I assure you, my Lord, our new cook is-"
"Taking their time getting acquainted?" Voldemort replied quietly, "It has been an exceptionally long time, Lucius. Much longer, I believe, than we should continue to permit."
Narcissa dabbed her red lips with a cloth napkin and cleared her throat.
"Please forgive us," she said with her eyes cast down, "Matilda only wishes to serve in whatever manner she is able-"
"I have heard enough," Voldemort said, placing his fork down, the steak still pierced upon it.
Underneath the table, Narcissa grabbed Lucius's wrist. Voldemort cocked his head and smiled a serpant's grin.
"Does my presence frighten you, Narcissa?"
"No, not at all. Please, my Lord, my sorrow lies in failing you! I will talk to our cook immediately to reconcile this matter."
Voldemort held up a weary hand for silence. With his other hand, he picked up his wand beside his plate.
"Bring her to me."
There was a crashing sound and shouting. Two Deatheaters restrained a young woman with thick arms and a sweating forehead. She drove her foot into one Deatheater's boot and bit the other on the knuckles.
"You shall obey me!" Voldemort commanded, rising from his seat and swinging out his wand.
The woman suddenly froze, her limbs unable to move though she continued to wrench herself back and forth as if to break free of the invisible bonds. Matilda the cook was crying as she struggled miserably. Narcissa looked away and clutched Lucius tightly.
"Please! I'm sorry! I will be better next time! I will be better!" Matilda bellowed hoarsely, tears streaming down her flushed face and her dress clearly soiled.
Voldemort took a step forward with his hands behind his back, his black robe swishing around him. He was silent for a moment as he watched the shaking woman.
"I wonder, Narcissa, that as this young woman lacks a knowledge of our refinement she may be also bearing false witness to her purity."
"We would never hire a mudblood, my Lord! Nothing like such filth!" Lucius replied.
"Even the most loyal may be fooled Lucius. Diseased blood, however, can be spotted in diminished power. For a pure-blood, a task such as cooking would be simple."
"I am pure!" Matilda screamed, "Please, Narcissa, tell him! I swear, I don't have a single drop!"
"That's enough!" Voldemort yelled, slicing the air with his wand.
A bloody slash ripped across her right cheek. Matilda cried out in hot pain as the blood stained her face. Narcissa made to stand, but Lucius grabbed her by the arm and pushed her firmly down into her seat. Voldemort rolled his tongue in his cheek and stepped forward, Nagini winding between his legs like an eager pup.
"You must be keenly aware, Matilda, that I never wish to kill a pure-blood. It happens, of course, but only when necessary. Only when nothing else shall remedy their betrayal"
Matilda bent her head down, avoiding his violent stare. He liked when they trembled but it was more satisfying when they looked. Their eyes would dance with terror, glittering and reflecting his own eyes which he knew were controlled. His wand hand twitched as he thought of that green glow on their faces. One moment, they were alive and fueled by the chemicals of fear. The next and the puppet strings that suspended life were snapped and they would fall crumbled.
He wanted to kill her. Her blood was pure but she represented the weakness that had invaded the final stronghold of the wizarding world. It was time to hack at every dead limb,Voldemort thought, including those close to the trunk.
Voldemort had the curse on his tongue and his wand was raised. But then he stopped. For the first first time, he held back. It was not out of mercy. There had not been a flicker of doubt. It was because behind the suspended woman was a silvery figure that had not been there before
"Lucius!" Voldemort hissed, his red eyes glowing.
"My master!"
"Take this repulsion out of here! Bellatrix will see that she learns."
Wordlessly Lucius gestured to the two Deatheaters who removed her from the room. Lucius bowed low to him and then walked hurriedly to follow. Narcissa swiftly rose and tucked in her chair and fled to her husband. Voldemort stood still. The silvery woman stared at him.
"I am capable of removing you," Voldemort said in a lethal whisper.
"We both know that is a lie," the woman said, stepping forward into the light of the fire.
It was Amelia Bones, her hair pulled back and her square jaw set. She wore her Ministry robes and crossed her arms.
"Do you believe you are the first to visit me? Do you believe yourself to be special?" Voldemort asked.
The silvery shape moved like mercury, transforming into Lily Potter. Her fists were clenched.
"Your weakness betrays you."
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The ghostly substance scattered like smoke, rolling and dissipating. But it curled like a soft whisper and built back up again. This time, Mad- Eye Moody took a jilting step forward, screwing his eye at Voldemort.
"Can't hit what's not there," Moody replied, raising a scarred eyebrow.
The fire in the fireplace suddenly extinguished and Voldemort was plunged into darkness. He spun around, the tip of his wand ignited and throwing strange shadows against the walls. He turned toward the large dining table and saw that now seated at the very end was a man. When the man looked up, his half-moon spectacles glinted in the wand light.
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort cried.
The ghost figure splintered apart like broken glass. With a snarl, Voldemort spun his wand above his head and lit up all the hanging chandeliers and torch brackets. But sitting on the mantle and hanging from the chandeliers was the half-moon-spectacle man. He now filled every seat at the table and stood like a waiting army in the large hall. There was an innumerable yet silent multitude. They all stared calmly back at Voldemort.
The nearest Albus, seated close at the table, said in a conversational tone, "When will you see that we are not going anywhere?"
"You lie! You, I saw you. You are dead," Voldemort picked up a maniacal laugh, "THE GREAT DUMBLEDORE IS DEAD!"
The many silvery shapes converged into one bright being. It took the form of Gellert Grindelwald who stood neatly with his hands behind his back. The twinkle of wry intelligence lit his transparent eyes.
"Death has never been your enemy. But it will be your prison."
Voldemort pointed his wand at the spot where Grindelwald stood. A burst of fire plumed up and Voldemort's eyes were twin reflections of the blaze. Gellert took a step forward out of the fire.
"A balance must be met. The emptiness inside of you must be filled. And it has. We reside in you and it makes us more alive than you can ever be."
The silvery substance shuttered then disappeared. It reappeared at the threshold into the darkened corridor. It was the ghostly image of Dumbledore the first time he introduced himself.
"I know this is a trick, Dumbledore. You are no ghost."
Dumbledore sighed and put on his hat, saying, "And only a child or a fool would think so. To your health, Tom."
With that, the silvery man melted into the long shadow of Voldemort.
