Chapter 11

As the sun rose over the hills surrounding Yaxley's estate, the air was crisp and the trees rustled gently in the morning breeze. It was the morning after Yaxley had received his owl from Dumbledore. He now stood at the window of his study, his arms clasped behind his back, staring out at the serene landscape. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a glimmer of hope. "Surely the punctum will work," he said out loud.

Yaxley's thoughts turned to Slughorn, the elusive target he had been tasked with capturing. He had been tracking the former professor for what seemed like an eternity, but he had always managed to stay one step ahead. However, with new information provided by the working punctum, Yaxley was confident that he would finally be able to catch his prey.

He walked over to his desk and began packing his bag, making sure he had all the necessary supplies for the hunt. As he rummaged through his drawers, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt for the danger he had put his son in, even if the danger was not so present anymore. He knew that the only way to continually ensure his heirs safety was to be the best death eater he could be.

As Yaxley stepped out of his home, he felt a sudden burning sensation on his left forearm. It was the Dark Mark, and it felt like it was on fire. This was not a good sign. He knew that when it burned, Voldemort was summoning his Death Eaters. But when it burned this badly, it meant that Voldemort was extremely angry. Yaxley's heart raced as he quickly apparated to the front gates of Malfoy Manor, where he knew Voldemort would be waiting inside. He saw what had happened to him at his last visit to the manor in his mind's eye. A flashback of himself being tortured by Voldemort; he remembered the pain of the cruciatus curse and felt a chill down his spine.

Moments after he arrived by the front gates, his painful recollection was interrupted by a crack as Bellatrix Lestrange appeared right beside him. Without looking over, she said, "we are to meet the Dark Lord in the dining hall." They both walked in silence with no further words exchanged.

The dining room of Malfoy Manor was grand and opulent, with polished silverware and fine china adorning the massive mahogany table. But today, it was marred by the presence of Lord Voldemort, who stood at the head of the table, his bone white feet, bearing overgrown toenails, tapping on the cold floor. His yew wand was delicately held in his hand between his thumb and forefinger, and he was using it to smash glasses and plates to pieces, sending shards of porcelain flying through the air, trashing the once elegant room.

Around the table sat the terrified Death Eaters, who had been summoned by the Dark Lord. As Yaxley entered he noticed that it seemed every third chair or so was empty. It appeared that not many have shown, "how could this be?" Yaxley thought. "Where is everyone?"

All the death eaters knew that their master was angry before they even arrived, they felt their marks burn just as hot as Yaxley, and they feared for their lives. Some of them trembled visibly, while others tried to keep their faces neutral, hiding their fear as best they could.

Voldemort's red eyes glared around the table, taking in every Death Eater in turn. He was enraged that those in his inner circle had allowed themselves to be captured, to be defeated by mere children. He towered over his terrified followers, even as he sat. His bare feet planted firmly on the cold marble floor. His skin was a sickly, pale white, stretched tightly over his bones. His slitted, red eyes glowed with a fierce intensity as he ranted and raved about their failures, his wand slashing through the air with deadly precision. The dark, serpentine form of Nagini, his deadly companion that held a fragmented piece of the dark lord's soul, slithered at his feet.

Nagini is a large and powerful snake, measuring around twelve feet in length. She was once a beautiful witch, but due to a maledictus blood curse, she had been trapped in the body of a snake. Her scales are jet black, glossy and shimmering in the light, with piercing red eyes that seem to glow with an unnatural intelligence, perhaps a hint that she is more than just a snake. Her muscular body moves with a fluid grace, and her powerful jaws are capable of crushing bones and tearing flesh with ease. Despite her intimidating size and strength, there is an eerie calmness to her demeanor, as though she is always calculating her next move. Her presence alone is enough to make even the bravest of wizards feel a deep sense of unease.

The very air seemed to grow colder and more oppressive in his presence, and the fear and terror that emanated from him was suffocating. This was not a man, but a force of pure, unrelenting evil.

"How is it possible," he spat, "that you were defeated by a group of students? Children! You are supposed to be my best, my most loyal! And yet you let yourselves be captured like rats in a trap."

This, of course, was not entirely true as those who were caught were imprisoned in Azkaban, not sitting at the dining room table being addressed. Nobody was foolish enough to point out this obvious fact.

Nagini, Voldemort's snake, slithered lazily around the room, her eyes fixed on the Death Eaters. Her tongue flicked in and out as she watched them with a predatory air.

Voldemort turned his attention to Narcissa Malfoy, who sat silently at the table, her eyes downcast.

"And you, Narcissa," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Your husband has failed me. He has brought shame upon the Malfoy name. Perhaps I should end the entire family for this," he turned his head to his serpent. "Nagini, dear, how would you like to eat both mommy and son?" he asked, taunting Narcissa. "Perhaps this is not necessary just yet, but know this, Ms. Malfoy, your husband will rot in Azkaban for a very long time. I don't intend on getting them out until they have had plenty of time to stew on their failures."

With this statement, the corner of Corban Yaxleys lip twitched. He was sitting directly across the table from Narcissa, a woman who he never bothered to get all that close to, and yet he couldn't shake off the unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He has heard Voldemort say many terrible things to his followers before, but just now hearing him threaten young Draco Malfoy to his mother had stirred up a sense of empathy in him that he had never felt before. He knew the pain of a parent's fear for their child all too well, having been faced with it himself for some time now. It was a strange feeling for him, this empathy. It was something that had been drilled out of him during his years as a Death Eater, and maybe even earlier than that in his childhood, growing up with his cruel father. He had been groomed to view emotions as weakness, and focus all his energy on the Dark Lord and his mission. But now, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of compassion for the woman sitting before him, as tears streamed down her face. He understood her pain.

Narcissa's tears flowed silently down her cheeks as she begged for mercy, pleading with her master to spare her family. She did this not with words, but with the look of terror and sorrow in her eyes. But Lord Voldemort was unmoved.

Next his gaze settled on Bellatrix, who was sitting right next to Narcissa, her sister. "Of the twelve Death Eaters who went to the Department of Mysteries," Voldemort said, his voice cold and menacing, "you were the only one skilled enough to get away. I am told you also killed the blood traitor, Sirius Black. It is refreshing to know that not all of my subjects are completely useless."

Bellatrix's face lit up with a look of pure joy and pride at the Dark Lord's words, a fierce smile spreading across her features. "Thank you, my Lord," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I am honored to have served you."

All the other death eaters looked over at her with a slight semblance of jealousy. The Dark Lord's approval was all any of them really wanted.

The Death Eaters dared not speak, knowing that to do so would be to risk the wrath of their master. His mood seemed to me more volatile than usual today. So they sat in silence, waiting for him to speak again.

"I will not tolerate failure," Voldemort continued. "I will not tolerate incompetence. You are my servants, and you will do my bidding, or you will suffer the consequences."

"M-my Lord," a squeaky voice whispered. "M-y Lord, you have my full support, I- I agree that th-the actions of Malfoy should not be tolerated," Peter Pettigrew interjected. His round, pale face and thinning brown hair that is slicked back. His eyes are small and watery, and he has a nervous twitch in his left eye. He is dressed in shabby robes that hang off his thin frame, and his hands are constantly fidgeting with the hem of his robes.

Without even turning his head to look at Pettigrew, Voldemort swiftly raised his wand and pointed it a few feet above the trembling man's head.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouted.

The air grew tense as everyone in the room held their breath, realizing what was happening.

In a split second, a bright green light shot out from the tip of Voldemort's wand and narrowly missed the top of Pettigrew's head, hitting a suit of armor behind him and shattering it into a thousand pieces. The force of the curse sent the mouse-like man tumbling to the floor in terror, whimpering and begging for mercy.

Voldemort's eyes blazed with fury as he glared down at Pettigrew, the very image of pure malice. "You try to seduce me with your pathetic flattery?" he snarled. "You dare question my actions of putting my faith in Lucious? You, who have done nothing but cower in the shadows? You are nothing to me, Pettigrew, nothing but a worthless worm!"

With a flick of his wand, he sent another plate from the table crashing to the floor next to Wormtail, who was shaking in the fetal position, where it shattered into many pieces. The Death Eaters flinched, but said nothing.

Voldemort's snake-like eyes narrowed, and he raised his wand once more, pointing it at the terrified group of Death Eaters, his demeanor changed rapidly to a more calm and serene appearance.

"All your current assignments are to be disregarded," he stated.

This causes many confused looks amongst the death eaters, brows furrowed and heads cocked.

"Given the current climate and sudden change in ranks, it shall be only fitting that we reassign missions and prioritize new goals. Over the next few days you will each be given a new path to follow," Voldemort hissed in a calmer tone, one of a business man with a job to do.

Yaxley feels a wave of relief wash over him at the announcement of new assignments. He can't help but let out a small sigh, glad to be rid of the burden of tracking down Slughorn. However, his relief is short-lived as Voldemort notices his reaction and turns his cold, red eyes to him.

"You find this amusing, Yaxley?" Voldemort hisses, his voice low and dangerous, his anger creeping back in.

Yaxley quickly straightens up, fear filling his body. "No, my Lord, I just thought-"

"You thought what?" Voldemort interrupts, his voice rising in anger. "That you were free from your duties? That you were no longer needed? Just because you have spent a year failing me in your duties to track down my old professor?"

"No, my Lord, I-" Yaxley stammers, struggling to find the right words to appease the Dark Lord.

"You will learn, Yaxley, that your duties as a Death Eater are never done," Voldemort sneers. "Yes it is true you will be assigned new tasks, and that Horace is no longer a priority given everything that has happened. But you will carry them out without hesitation or complaint. Is that understood?"

Yaxley nods quickly, too terrified to speak. Voldemort's wrath is unlike anything he has ever experienced before, and he knows that the slightest mistake could cost him his life.

"My Lord," Severus Snape interjected.

"Yes, Severus."

"On the topic of Horace Slughorn, I have some news from Hogwarts." This intrigued Voldemort, who seemed to calm down at this. He had always seemed to take a liking to the greasy haired man and was curious about what he had to say.

"I have recently been asked to step up as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next academic year. This means that my post as potions master will be replaced. Rumor has it that Dumbledore himself is currently tracking Slughorn in an attempt to get him out of retirement to take my old job."

"I see, very interesting," Voldemort hissed. "It seems we are not the only ones after his talents." There was a pause. "No matter, we are not searching for him anymore, let the mudblood loving headmaster have him."

Voldemort stared back at Yaxley, lingering on him for no more than a few seconds.

"Remember this," he said, now moving from Yaxley to the whole crowd, his voice cold and deadly. "I am your Lord and master. You will obey me, or you will pay the price."

With a final wave of his wand, he disappeared, leaving the Death Eaters trembling in fear at the table of Malfoy Manor.

A/N

Everything's coming together. We see Voldemort's reaction to the battle of the department of mysteries and what this all looks like from the death eater perspective. In the canon stories we are often told that Dumbledore instructs Snape to feed Voldemort specific information: here we actually see an example of that.