When Voldemort saw what Hermione had sent him, his entire face hardened. He was not one to throw tantrums, or yell, or rage at the followers kneeling at his feet. But he did flick his wand, almost absentmindedly, and the green curse struck a sobbing, pleading young wizard. He didn't even blink as the wizard fell and died, didn't even hear the sweat rolling down the foreheads of those who remained.
He stood up from his chair, and Wormtail hastened to clear away the untouched dishes. The package, and its note, was given a wide berth.
"Out," Voldemort said, his voice a deathly quiet.
They all scampered away. None stopped to remove the dead body.
He reached out and stroked the fang of his beloved, and an emotion flickered deep within his red eyes.
Then he tightened his grip. The fang cracked into dust.
"More to come," the note read. "Signed: Hermione Granger."
