Chapter Eight - The Reunion
Narcissa sat in the small waiting room. Her face was
burried in the heels of her hands and a cigarette was burning between her
fingers. She was very shaken from the trip last week and even more shaken about
something else.
Oh my god. I can't believe I married Lucius Malfoy.
She remembered very little about their marriage in a
Vegas casino, but what she did remember wasn't pleasing to her. Her face
contorted when she thought about living with that bafoon for the rest of her life.
I know, I'll just get our marriage annu-- I'll divorce
that sonuvabitch! Ha ha, I'll leave his ass!
Narcissa cackled aloud, immersed in her new idea. She
began to think of nothing but this, playing scenes over and over again until
her conniving smile grew wider and wider.
"Mrs. Malfoy?"
Narcissa twisted her hands, cigarette in mouth,
oblivious to the nurse.
"Mrs. Malfoy?"
The nurse was standing over her.
"Mrs. Malfoy! I have news for you!" the
nurse said, half irritated, half excited.
Narcissa blinked, awakened from her pleasant daydream.
She wasn't used to being referred to as "Mrs. Malfoy" and certainly
was not going to get used to it.
"What is it?" she barked, her Brooklyn
accent adding effect. "If it's about my ulcer, I could care le--"
"No! It's good news."
"Yeah?" she replied sarcastically.
"Mrs. Malfoy, you're pregnant."
Narcissa's mouth opened and her cigarette fell to the
floor. She stared around the room in disbelief. She then began to beat her head
against the table, screaming and almost sobbing.
"Damn those Vegas cocktails! Damn them to
hell!"
Severus Snape, now a professor, was hardly pleased
with his current position. Although he hadn't heard from Tom or Lucius for a
very long time, the idiots he had the chore of teaching were eating away at
what was left of his soul. He was so grateful that the school year was ending
in a matter of days. It astonished him how they could sit there for hours on
end and not take in a single word he said. But one day, something even more
astonishing arrived by owl.
The note that fell directly into his scrambled eggs
read:
To whom it may concern;
If one values his life, he will attend a certain
meeting of the newly formed Death Eaters held tonight at 16 Jaques Avenue. Be
prepared for a great misfortune should one refuse this invitation.
The invite didn't need to be signed, for Severus knew whom
it was from. His insides turned over. He could only imagine how much
"fun" it would be sitting in an empty warehouse with the people he
had spent a year trying to forget.
This is going to be one bloody hell of an evening, he thought darkly.
Severus raised an eyebrow as he stood on the pavement
in front of a run-down building.
"Please tell me ..." he began as he fumbled
inside his pocket for the note he received earlier that day. He grumbled as he
saw that he was at the correct address.
"Riddle has never been known for his taste in
living quarters," he said as he approached the structure that read
"The Fatty Club" in broken letters. His thoughts wandered from his
old apartment, to Tom's less-than-substantial dorm at Hogwarts, and then to the
old Riddle household. His thoughts were not positive when he reached for the
dusty doorknob.
The door creaked and echoed through the very empty
building.
Perhaps I'm early, he thought, even though he was slightly worried. Blood pounded in his
ears when he caught sight of a small object sitting on the only piece of
furniture in the room.
"Tom?!" he screamed as he ran closer to a
small coffee table. His wild thoughts were confirmed when he stood at the
table's edge. What looked like a human skull was perched on a frayed doily.
Severus reached for it.
"Oh dear god, what have they do--"
Before Severus could finish his horror-stricken
sentence, his feet left the ground. He felt like his stomach was about to leap
up into his throat. When he thought he was about to lose his dinner, he
stumbled onto a hard floor. He was on all fours and panting heavily.
A portkey,
he thought. Should've known ...
"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with
his presence!"
Severus looked up towards the ceiling to find himself
gazing at the face of Forrest Lestrange, who was standing over him with an
artificial air of superiority.
"A pleasure to see you as well, Lestrange,"
he said sarcastically.
Severus stood up and dusted off his robes. He found he
was in a rather large room. The windows and doors were sealed and a swamp
cooler was on full blast in one corner. There were couches and chairs and a
podium.
The dark room was crowded, mostly with unfamiliar
faces. Two burly men were poking at a small guy with glasses and brown hair
that stood on end. In getting a closer look, Severus could tell that the large
men were Crabbe and Goyle, and the smaller was Alan Stormer. He noticed a few
others, but he didn't see Tom or--
"Severus!"
That high-pitched squeal of joy could only belong to
one individual.
"Lucius--" Severus began as he was pulled
into a bear hug.
"Sevey!" Lucius squeezed a little harder.
"I missed you! Where have you been?! Tom's been worried sick!"
"I'm sure he has," Severus said cynically.
"I've gotten a real paying job, Lucius. And what have you
been doing?"
"Omigod, Sev, guess what!" Lucius was
jumping from foot to foot in jocund anticipation.
"Hmm?"
"I. Got. MARRIED!" Lucius brandished a large
diamond ring and shoved it into Severus' face.
"Isn't the woman supposed to wear that
thing?" Severus implored.
"Oh, Narcissa doesn't like sparkly things,"
Lucius replied, admiring his ringed finger. "But I love the way diamonds
shimmer in the sunlight! Don't you?"
"Well--"
"Guess what else!"
"What ever next, Lucius?"
"I've got myself a strapping young boy to
carry on the family name! He's so adorable! You should see the way he knaws on
Narcissa's ear!"
"Sounds charming, Lucius," Severus said, his
gaze now fixed on a group of foreign wizards. "Where did all these people
come from?"
"Tom has his ways," Lucius said with a broad
grin. "He has such ambition! He set his mind on something and he followed
through with it!" Lucius sighed. "Our little dark lord."
The already dark room was growing darker and a light
shown on the podium. Severus and Lucius took their seats at an empty couch. The
rooom flooded with applause as Tom Riddle stepped up to the podium. Tom's hair
was very thin and he looked a little whiter than he had the last time Severus
had seen him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Tom began, motioning
with his hands to quiet the excited crowd. "I thank you all for your
support in attending this meeting."
Crabbe and Goyle began whooping from one corner of the
room.
Tom tilted his head and ignored the two. "A very
special thank you to Stormer for introducing the idea of a porkey to keep
certain members from finding out the whereabouts of our secret organization's
headquarters."
Severus narrowed his eyes as people laughed and
clapped for Alan.
"And also to the Malfoys for their financial and
moral support."
Lucius jumped up and pointed to himself as a weak
applause sounded from the crowd. He bowed several times and whispered
"thank yous" to no one in particular.
Tom organized some papers on the podium and cleared
his throat.
"However, I regret to inform you that I will be
leaving yet again," he said with fake sadness. Some members sighed and
gasped. "But before I go, we must get some work done. Pettigrew!
Assistance!"
At these orders, Peter Pettigrew came bounding out of
a chair that seemed far too small to hold his weight. He was holding a chart
and he pinned it to an old easel that was resting near Tom.
"What the hell is Pettigrew doing here?!"
Severus demanded, managing to keep his voice low enough so that only Lucius
could here him.
"Well ... " Lucius tapped his chin and his
gaze wandered, and he eventually forgot he had started talking in the first
place. Severus, slightly flustered, looked back at the head of the room.
The chart read "The Official Death Eaters Circle
of Fun." Below that was a diagram of little stick firgures standing in a
circle. Each was labeled.
"Now," Tom said, pushing Pettigrew aside and
standing in front of the diagram. "Death Eaters, arise."
There was a scuffling sound of chairs and Tom's
audience arose with difficulty, members pushing members and some even cracking
chairs over each other's heads.
"Memo, Pettigrew," Tom said, and Peter
whipped out a pad a paper and waited eagerly for Tom's next words. "We must
work on this band of disobedient numb skulls." Peter knew by
"we" he meant "you" and Peter scribbled Tom's command frivolously.
Amidst the crowd, Lucius waved his hands frantically.
Tom caught sight of this and narrowed his gaze in disgust.
"What is it, Malfoy?"
"I was wondering, Tom, if may--"
Tom shuddered at the mention of his own name.
"Let me make it a point," he began, slowly
and murderously, a vein in his forehead thumping slightly. "To abolish
that name." He scoured the room with his penetrating gaze. "From here
on out, I will be referred to as your supreme leader ... "
The Death Eaters waited anxiously as a sound
resembling a drum roll sounded from behind their "supreme leader."
"... LORD VOLDEMORT!"
The Death Eaters stood wide-eyed in shock. A few
started to chortle.
"Lord Voldemort?" an unfamiliar wizard
blurted between fits of laughter. "That's a hoot and a half!"
A moment later, that wizard was nothing but a small
spider scuttling on the floor. Tom blew smoke off his wand and looked at his
hushed audience with his o-familiar stare.
"Let that be a warning to you misfits," he
said. "Defiance is not tolerated."
There was an air of hushed tension hovering above the
crowd.
"Now!" Voldemort said, clapping his hands
together excitedly. "Let's get to the Circle of Fun!"
A few moments later, Voldemort and Pettigrew were
assorting Death Eaters according to the diagram. In a relatively short time,
most of the members were sorted.
"... And Snape, you get to stand next to
Malfoy."
"Goody," Severus murmured from a crack in
his mouth.
Lucius smiled faintly. He had a strange urge to do the
Hokey Pokey in this large circle, but he refrained. Tom, well, this
"Voldemort" fellow, was rather frightening.
When the circle was completed, Voldemort looked on
with satisfaction.
"Remember your positions," he said, holding
his hands behind his back and pacing around the circle. "Now, before I go,
I will assign you each a mission."
The Death Eaters turned to one another in delight.
Severus groaned.
Yipee,
guess who gets to be the "Official Toilet Scrubber" he thought as he crossed his arms.
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