Chapter Eleven

"My faithful followers, we almost completed our control over the world. Soon everything will be ours. No one can stand against us." Cheers rang through the Great Hall. All his faithful had come to celebrate. All but two. He had yet to see his right hand and soon-to-be heir. Do not disappoint me, Lucius. I am not one to cross. "At dawn we attack! At dawn we cement our absolute victory!"

Clap. Clap. Clap. "Bravo, Tom. Bravo." Immediately everyone froze. All eyes were pinned to the doors, watching them open to allow a steady stream of grey smoke to enter. And out stepped someone they never thought they'd see again.

"My Prince. Welcome to the celebration."

Daemon chuckled at the obvious play of simpering loyalty, "Saving face? Won't work this time." He strolled forward in leisure grace, "I've heard some interesting news, Tom."

"News, my Master?" Voldemort grew wary. He ddin't like the hungered eagerness gleaming in those hypnotic eyes.

"Oh yes. You hunger for power not yours to gain. You rage against the oldest magic created before this world was born. You want it all. And you have been well warned."

Red eyes widened. He had been betrayed by his closest confidant, the cowering rat! "No!"

"Yes. And you touched my Consort. My marked mate. You had him violated. He was mine! Mine, Tom! Only I touch him!"

Voldemort cringed back against his seat as raw power flared in tightly controlled waves. "My Master!"

"I came for what's mine. Your head. And your soul." Voldemort tried to flee but was stopped by his own betraying right hand. "Destroy them all!"

"Please, my Dark Prince! Spare your servants!"

"Oh, I shall spare them. My servants hunger for new flesh. My minions desire new blood to paint the grounds. And now they shall paint this school. But you, you will give me what I want."

Lucius and Draco held tight as their Master grasped Voldemort's thrashing head. Daemon forced their eyes to meet, slippedhis way into Voldemort's mind. "Show me or I shall rip it out. I will find it." Daemon searched for the violators, sending those images to his hungry minions. All but two would be destroyed. "Now for my price."

With little effort Daemon twisted the head in his hands, chuckling as the bones began to break. The breaking bones tore through their encasing skin and muscle, allowing blood to rush forward. Holding the head in one hand, he ran the other through the dark blood. "Find the girls. You've been given the image. Return them to the receiving room."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Ah, Dragons, where is the rat?" Draco smirked, dropping the grey animal onto the Head table, "Very good, Silvery One. Go."

Peter struggled against his Dark Prince as magic forced him to revert to human form, "Please, please, no, please!"

"You delayed me, Peter. That I cannot condone. You tried to flee me. That I will not allow." Peter screamed as his Master's head was thrown to his side. But Daemongrew impatient with the screams, plunging a hand into the screaming wizard's chest, tearing out the still beating heart.

In his right hand was the now crushed heart, blood running between his fingers. He placed himself onto the blood splattered Head chair, watching his minions delight in their fun. With pleasure they tore into their chosen victims, flaying the bare skin and painting the room with blood. Uncaring to his part of the bloodshed, Daemon lifted a stemmed glass, gulping the sweet liquor in one taste. "Mmm, the celebration is quite lovely. Return, my minions. The night is over."