Chapter Sixty-six: The New Ministry
Voldemort took to the skies. The location of the new Ministry had the tricky anti-Apparation charm on it, but not much other protection. Having a Fidelius Charm would be far too complicated when they were bringing Death Eaters in and out of the building continually.
His thin lips almost formed a smile. How foolish the heads of the rebellion had been to form a Ministry to round up Death Eaters. Had they forgotten his takeover of the last Ministry? All he had had to do was wait patiently to gather enough information”which he got plenty of. Snape had been present at the formation of the Ministry. Even his inside source at Alsemore had something to give him.
He stopped his flight suddenly and hovered in mid-air in front of a window. This would be the assistant’s office; the filth had at least been clever enough not to give such free access to the Minister’s office itself.
Voldemort hovered outside of the window and waited. He would take his time. There was a figure inside”he would have said man, but he was hardly older than a boy. His frail frame hunched over a desk, quill dancing across the parchment.
Voldemort waited. The moment would be delicious, and he did not want to ruin it.
The boy’s quill finally lifted from the page and he frowned down at what he had written. He scratched his head with the tip of the feather and sighed. This was the moment”Voldemort knew. Predictably, the boy looked up to gaze out of the window.
There it was. The slightest flicker in his eyes”his expression turned from one of dullness to extreme terror. The boy’s eyes widened, but he just sat there”too paralyzed to move.
Voldemort wondered how many of this boy’s nightmares involved this particular moment. From outside of the window, still floating effortlessly, Voldemort glowered back at him.
The boy was beginning to find his movement again. He scooted back in his chair; his arms retracted; his head tilted just slightly.
Voldemort didn’t move. The window shattered, all of the glass blasting into the puny office. The boy lost his ability to move again”his mouth just hung open limply.
Voldemort flew through the window and landed on the shards of glass with a satisfying crunch. The boy, once again, gained mobility in his panic. He rose from his chair, knocking it down as he did, and rushed to a door in the corner. He had just raised his fist to knock, when he froze once more.
It had nothing to do with his fear, this time, though. Voldemort lowered his wand after casting the Immobilizing spell and moved in towards the boy. With a sweep of enjoyment, Voldemort saw a dark stain growing on the front boy’s trousers.
“Frightened, are we?”
The boy could not move. He was frozen in a half-reach towards the oak door”his arm hung in the air like a puppet’s. “Answer me.” Voldemort gave the boy his power of speech back”gave him the capability of movement from the face up.
The boy did not answer him. Instead, he scrunched up his eyes; tears fell from them, and he whimpered like a child.
“Coward,” the Dark Lord scathed, hoping to push the boy a little farther before disposing of him.
“No.”
The boy’s fear flew inside of him, ricocheting like a caged bird. Voldemort smirked out his outward insolence. “Do not lie to Lord Voldemort.”
Voldemort granted him entire movement for his last moment of life. The boy collapsed onto the floor and sobbed”his whole body wracked with terror. The Dark Lord let it continue. He saw no reason why he should not enjoy himself.
The boy’s sobs continued, for a good minute, and suddenly stopped. As though realizing that he was still alive, the boy placed his hands solidly on the ground and pushed himself up. His eyes were filled with the faintest glimmer of hope.
Voldemort took that moment to act. “Avada Kedavra.”
The Minister’s assistant was knocked over backwards by the force of the curse. Voldemort stood above him. Tears still glimmered in the body’s dull, dead eyes.
Voldemort turned his gaze to the desk where the boy’s wand lay, completely forgotten. Voldemort picked up the frail thing and wrapped his fingers of his left hand around it, before turning his gaze to the door in the corner. He flicked his wand wordlessly, and it blasted open.
Whatever scene was going on inside continued, oblivious to his presence. Somebody was screaming, sobbing”it sounded like a child’s plea that came from an unquestionably adult voice.
Voldemort took one step inside the room and the scene froze entirely. A man lay on the floor, face writhed with agony. Another man stood above him, wand pointed down at his victim.
Voldemort had never seen the standing man, but recognized him from description”Barksdale, the fool who Alsemore had appointed as Minister.
Barksdale gaped at him. Voldemort relished in this moment. Undoubtedly, the Minister had waited for this”had imagined confronting the Dark Lord, slaying him and becoming a hero. When faced with his greatest enemy, for real, though, he could do nothing but stare.
They seemed to be frozen like that for hours. Finally, Barksdale’s mind began to function again, and he shakily lifted his wand.
Voldemort disarmed him without an incantation and caught it”his third wand. “I don’t think so.”
“My Lord.”
Voldemort turned his gaze downwards at the source of the voice. The man on the ground turned out to be one of his Death Eaters”nobody of importance and nobody he recognized, but his nonetheless. Voldemort tossed him the dead assistant’s wand, which the Death Eater snatched out of the air.
“Thank you, my Lord,” the Death Eater said, crawling forward and kissing Voldemort’s robes. “I am”I am so”grateful””
“Enough.” Voldemort glanced momentarily at Barksdale, who stood petrified by his own fear before turning back to his follower. “Go back to Headquarters. Free any others who are here and take them with you.”
“Yes”yes, My Lord.” The Death Eater kissed his robes once more and scuttled out of the office.
Once the Death Eater was gone, Voldemort turned his gaze back on Barksdale, who was now attempting to speak. “You”you,” he spluttered, “you”what do you want?”
“Pathetic,” Voldemort hissed, circling the paralyzed Minister predatorily. The lack of a fight made Voldemort laugh. Who would have thought that the cowardly assistant might actually be braver than his boss?
“Don’t kill me.”
Voldemort was again surprised by the degree of this man’s fear. Barksdale’s face was contorted and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Although he made no big movements (he was too paralyzed by fear for that), his shoulders and knees quivered.
“Oh I don’t plan to,” Voldemort said, twirling his wand carelessly between his fingers. “You have been effective”surprisingly so”at your job.”
Barksdale didn’t respond. His face contorted further; his eyes swam in regret. “I won’t catch as many,” he said, lacing his hands together as though praying. “We can act like the Death Eaters have hidden”like they’re getting better at evading us. Please”just”don’t”don’t kill me.”
“Funny how the man chosen to save the world turns out to be the most cowardly of them all.” Voldemort took a step forward.
“Please”” Barksdale fell to his knees, his hands still clasped in front of him. He scooted forward and crouched at the Dark Lord’s robes. “We can make it look like you took over”we can kill a few of the Aurors. It will take us off our feet for a while. Please”I have a girlfriend”she’s pregnant; I can’t die, not now”please””
“Enough.” Voldemort used a Silencing charm on Barksdale to stop his incessant babble. “Filth like you,” he said, “has no need to reproduce.”
Barksdale looked stricken. He gaped at Voldemort for a moment, as the horror of that thought settled on him. His mouth began to work wildly, then, as he silently begged for his life.
Voldemort was growing impatient. As Barksdale crawled towards him, still spewing his wordless pleas, he raised his wand. “Crucio.”
Barksdale was blown off his knees and landed hard on his back. He was still silenced, but the soundless screams were almost more enjoyable than shrill ones. Voldemort watched as the Minister’s legs contorted into his body and he twitched, his eyes rolling back into his skull.
Voldemort stopped it just before the pain went too far. He lifted his wand and gave the Minster a moment to get to his knees and catch his breath. “Now, filth,” Voldemort said as Barksdale gasped and wheezed. “I do not plan on killing you. Lord Voldemort is merciful. Lord Voldemort does favors for those who help him.”
Barksdale looked up, his jaw hanging open stupidly. He nodded enthusiastically.
“I do not, however, believe that I will use your plan.” Voldemort began to move again, and circled Barksdale slowly. “Lord Voldemort, you see, does not follow orders.”
Barksdale only had a moment to pick up his head, before Voldemort hissed, “Imperio.”
The man’s mind was simple. Voldemort was able to capture it as easily as a child’s. The man’s face fell blank, blissfully empty.
Voldemort looked at the ragdoll and felt a smile spread across his lips. “You will listen to me,” he hissed, making sure the message became lodged in Barksdale’s mind. “When you get evidence of a Death Eater, you will only pursue it with my permission. If I say do not arrest a suspect, you will not.”
Barksdale nodded, his eyes completely blank.
Voldemort turned to leave. He had just reached the doorway where the dead assistant still lay. “And you will take care of your filth at home as well.”
Halfway to Infinity by Eponine
Chapter Notes: Thanks, coolh5000, for helping me and beta'ing this chapter!
This chapter's dedicated to awesome, younger cousin!