Minds Stirred By Mutiny and Rage- The Beginning or The End?
The Beginning or The End?
A loud crack like a whip reverberated against the tall, unyielding yew hedge that stretched along a small, pebbled laneway. It travelled straight for a few miles until one side arced to the left towards a set of imposing wrought iron gates. The Dark Lord's tall, proud frame strode towards the gate and he did not hesitate, even when a figure appeared with a louder crack behind him. Her sequined shawls and bushy brown hair flew back in the light breeze.
"My Lord," Trelawney called in her infamous misty tones for the second time in a fortnight. "Danger is upon you."
"Get away you foolish woman, I never want to see you again!" The Dark Lord snapped. He turned his back on her and resumed his swift pace. He did not see the small smirk on her face, or her head shake to the side, as he slinked through the gates as if he were a ghost. His majestic pace did not cease as the impressive dark wooden door, lined with silver, effortlessly slid on its hinges to greet him.
A wide entrance hall met his gaze, with magnificent cream carpet that cushioned his dragon hide boots as he descended down a wide hallway. The elegance of the place even impressed the Dark Lord; a perfect pureblood manor complete with thousand year old portraits of ancestors that appropriately bowed as he passed. It was no wonder he had resided in the manor for so long, until a year ago when his own manor built.
With a flick of his long, spider-like fingers, and without the use of his wand, the door in front of him drifted open; being the Dark Lord it was almost mandatory that he gift his Death Eaters with a show of his might, even if it was only a simple piece of wandless magic.
Not even half of his followers had arrived yet. Being relatively early they were arranged in a few different groups around the drawing room. At their master's arrival all of the inhabitants of the room turned and bowed low. The Dark Lord waved his hand lazily and dismissed them from their positions and he arranged himself in the high backed chair at the head of the table, about ten feet from the lit marble fireplace.
As soon as he sat down the host (or really the man whose house it was) hurried over to his Lord and wordlessly he delicately placed a tea cup next to his master's long fingered right hand. He nodded and held the fine china in his grasp and brought it near his thin lips. His snake light nostrils flared as he savored the scent. Lucius's elves always knew how to prepare a fine brew, and recognised the uncommon fact that the Dark Lord appreciated a couple of sugars in his tea.
"My Lord," whispered Bellatrix to his right, as she leaned towards him. Her dark eyes stared at him silently begging. "Perhaps I should have that cup."
"Do you insult Lucius's tea brewing skills?" The Dark Lord chortled a little at his own joke and a few of the other Death Eaters around nervously echoed his tones. Bella's recent worry for him was both flattering and irritating. He understood her feelings; he knew that they both shared the same fear after all. Yet she must learn to not doubt him.
He felt more than a little foolish that a few hours ago she had made him hesitate about attending this meeting, even if it was only for a moment. He must control any passing feelings of fondness he felt for her, she was nothing more than a favourite possession after all. How could she even have reason to fear anything happening to him? He was the most powerful man in the world, the conqueror of death and the leader of Great Britain.
For dramatic effect he took a long sip of tea, and he felt the hot liquid slide down his throat. Bella's eyes widened, but the only impact was a slight scolding of his throat from drinking the too hot liquid so quickly.
"I am fine Bella. Do you really think I could be killed by poison?" He whispered quietly to her. Bella seemed to understand and looked down ashamedly, as was appropriate. The Dark Lord allowed his red eyes to linger over her face, before he turned to Severus, who stood near his chair to discuss the happenings at Hogwarts.
As he conversed with Severus his ears picked up a conversation between Rabastan and Bella. It did not matter to him, as he heard Rabastan ask Bella to talk to him outside. She certainly thought it did, he could still feel her eyes trained on him (which was not that unusual). When he did not turn his head she reluctantly left the room.
"It was a cold night last night was it not my Lord," Lucius added as he and a few other Death Eaters approached the fireplace behind the Dark Lord's high backed chair.
"Funny, I did not notice." The Dark Lord replied as he turned back to Snape. He could not admit to his Death Eaters that he felt the weather like a mere mortal.
His eyes briefly scanned his followers and he noted they were all gathered around the fireplace only a few feet from him. He felt a little concerned, but he pushed that thought to the side, he had ensured his Death Eaters were too loyal to betray him.
He was content in his thoughts, until he noticed a summoning spell shoot out of Lucius's wand. Instinctively he deflected the spell, but, at the same time a spell contacted with his back and he was thrown off his chair onto the wooden floor. He moved his wand into his hand but again multiple curses contacted with him, binding him in tight ropes that constricted the air flow in his lungs and forced him to lose his hold on his wand.
He roared with fury and struggled with the bonds that pressed into his stomach. He tried to force his magic into his hands to use any form of wandless magic. Yet even for him that was impossible. The ropes around him was too tight, they cut off most of the blood flow to his limbs and turned them purple and rendered any magic as impossible. He also suspected that one of the other curses that had hit him had also minimized his magic for a while.
A steel-capped boot kicked him in the ribs. The Dark Lord felt one shatter as he was thrown onto his back. His red eyes glared at his Death Eaters as they advanced, each with their wand pointed at his chest as he lay flat on the floor. He tried denying it, but he felt fear bubble in his stomach.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing? How dare you even consider betraying me? Traitors, the lot of you!" The Dark Lord shrieked through his binding as he struggled, but only his hands and feet flailed weakly. At their Lord's anger a few of the Death Eaters hesitated, even if it was impossible for him to do anything other then twitch and scream in fury.
"No my Lord, we are not the traitors. You are nothing more than a half blood - yet you play the tyrant." Spat Malfoy, his voice calm as he stood at the forefront of the group.
Fear and anger took over the Dark Lord's body completely. They now all knew his secret and no doubt Malfoy had used it to rouse hatred.
"Yet I led you all to greatness, with the whole of the wizarding world under our control. You have destroyed the cause when it was finally successful." Red eyes swept over the crowd and attempted to find an ally. His eyes landed on Rodolphus. "Even you Rodolphus, when you continue to profess your loyalty to the cause."
Rodolphus's blue eye looked directly into his former master's eyes; his body as imposing as always with no fear evident in his features.
"We still are loyal to the cause, just not to you."
Despite himself the Dark Lord let out a low chuckle of laughter as he realised the source of hate that bubbled in those blue eyes.
"How sweet Rodolphus this about Bella, why am I not surprised? What is wrong Lestrange? Annoyed that she comes crawling to my bed every night? That, when I do not feed her desires she comes to you, and while you take your marital rights from her the only way she can gain any kind of satisfaction from you is if she thinks of me? How often does she call my name then, Rodolphus?"
"Enough!" Rodolphus roared and lunged forward. He slammed his foot into the Dark Lord's face before he was pulled back.
Blood leaked down his pale face, and the Dark Lord considered that while it was not the most intelligent move, it was necessary. His pride demanded he fight back in some way.
"Wait a moment Rodolphus, there is something he must know first," Called Snape from the back of the crowd where he had subtly disappeared to; his dark eyes gleamed and his mouth was set in a determined expression. "You see every one of your precious Horcruxes are gone. Avery is dealing with Nagini now. What do you say?"
His red eyes were wide and for the second time in recent memory the Dark Lord felt shocked. He had to be bluffing; they could not have destroyed all his Horcruxes! But then if they knew about Nagini...
No! He could not be defeated.
But a quick legilmency (which unlike pure wand magic he found he could use, possible as it involved minds rather than bodies) on the figures that surrounded him suggested they had destroyed them. He would have to persuade them, he was the Dark Lord, of course he could.
But after another glance he was well aware of the glares that they sent at him; a mixture of anger and hunger for power like rabid dogs after a scrap of meat.
Maybe Bella, or someone else would come in?
But the doors were sealed shut, and no footsteps could be heard on the carpeted floor.
For the first time there was fear in his eyes. Now he had no hope. He understood what Trelawney had foreseen and what Bella had warned about. After all he had done he was going to be killed as he lay bound on the ground surrounded by his old followers.
"Now!" Cried Snape and a dozen jets of green light soared out of the wands that surrounded him. Each of them hit him and the Dark Lord inexplicably felt...
Nothing.
The crowd watched as the green light faded over the body in front of them, most of them expected something to happen, but nothing did. They were silent, until together, they seemed to accept their success. The crowd erupted with cheers and cries of delight and some shot jets of light from their wand into the ceiling that caused scorch marks to appear on the white ceiling.
After he spared a look to the damage to his ceiling Lucius automatically went into action and began delegating tasks to his comrades. Some left the room swiftly as they rushed to deliver the news to the ministry.
Their joy was only interrupted when the door slammed on its hinges and hit the wall with a loud bang. Each figure turned to see Rabastan as he ran into the room with a slight limp to his right leg and a rip in his robes; he face was flushed and worried.
"Rabastan what happened? Where is Bella?" Asked Rodolphus straight away, as he rushed to his brother's side. Out of breath Rabastan answered quickly at a speed that only half the group could understand.
"Avery is duelling her now. Macnair announced what happened and she flew into a rage. Avery is trying to buy some time for her to calm down."
"I doubt much of Avery will be left then," Rodolphus answered, his eyes narrowed and his brow creased as he realised what her behaviour would mean.
As Rodolphus predicted it took another two minutes for the door to be blown off its hinges and Bella to appear; her robes were streaked with blood, face flushed, wand out and worry in her dark eyes.
"Welcome Bella," Called Lucius, as he approached her hesitantly, his wand wisely in his hand. Her eyes met his for a moment before she examined the rest of the room. A group of her comrades stood in a huddle and she moved further into the room. She concentrated and spotted a mass of black robes behind the circle of Death Eaters.
Her dark eyes widened and her face fell and her wand dropped from her grasp in shock, confirming that Macnair had not been lying with his announcement. A feral shriek erupted from her and she launched herself through the crowd and fell on her knees before the lifeless body. Her hands grasped the thin shoulders and wailed to the room.
"My Lord!" Her voice was pitched high enough to shatter glass. "My Lord! My Lord! My Lord!"
Her nails dug into his shoulders and her eyes were snapped shut as she concentrated on the feel of her hands on his shoulders and as she tried stop the...
Tears.
One by one they fell down her pointed nose onto her master's face. She tried to gain control of herself, she never cried, never! But here she was - surrounded by her so called comrades, her hands grasping her master's lifeless body and tears were falling down her face. She was behaving like those weak women who did nothing but hide under the robes of their husbands. She should have been up on her feet blasting the traitors that surrounded her to pieces. Those traitorous bastards who dared betray her Lord!
But she could not.
Black eyes remained filled with tears and every inch of her long fingers stroked his cool face, which was steadily getting colder like her heart.
Her mind whirled with the same thoughts over and over again. What could she do without him? The man who had marked her in every way that was possible; her mind, body and soul. Who had taught her everything. Who she had followed to the end. Who she had killed for, tortured for, and did anything else he requested?
Who she had loved more than anything else in the world.
Bellatrix felt a hand curl around her shoulder she wanted to lash out strike it off and curse him viciously, but despite herself she could not draw her hand away from her master to push it off.
"He was a great man," Lucius murmured from some faraway place. "But he was dangerous and could destroy everything that we held dear."
It did not take legilmency to realise what Malfoy meant; Narcissa and Draco. The image flashed into Bella's mind; herself kneeling besides the bodies of her sister and her nephew. Her mind did not feel fazed in the least, even if she did love Narcissa.
Narcissa just meant nothing compared to the Dark Lord.
But somehow she still did not lash out at Lucius as he continued.
"We mean you no harm Bella. You can carry on with your job and your life, nothing will have changed."
Nothing will have changed? Her mind scoffed at the thought, but at the same time, another idea entered her mind. It felt as if it was whispered to her by the Dark Lord himself; his snake like voice reached her ear and his long fingers stroked her hair. She could act the part, flatter them for their effort and at the same time rally the masses to destroy those traitors! Her Lord would be proud.
"Of course I shall do it then," and Bella's voice felt dull to her own ears.
She could imagine Lucius's smug expression, filled with glee, and Rodolphus's frame visibly relaxed with relief but her eyes did not lift from her master's face. She thought only of him, her brain barely processed Lucius ordering the traitors to head to the Ministry.
Some part of her grief sodden brain seemed to recognise that she was alone with her master at last. As the door closed her knees gave way and her head fell on his chest. Her sobs were muffled by his unmoving body as she clung to him for dear life.
"Bella! Oh Merlin!" A voice cut into the cocoon of silence that surrounded her. She did not raise her head or her gaze and just continued to lay with her master.
A pair of arms grasped her shoulders and pulled her back off her master. Angry protests left Bella's mouth and she struggled weakly for a moment. Her dark eyes glared angrily until she recognised the scarred and pointed face of Antonin Dolohov. The real sorrow in Antonin's face for her Lord was probably the only reason she did not lash out at him for disturbing her and her master.
"I am sorry Bella I could not do anything. I was told by Rabastan last night that the meeting was cancelled and when I was at the ministry today I heard the announcement from Macnair what had happened."
Bella nodded meekly and she did believe his words. He at least was loyal.
She stayed still for a while in his embrace; his arms around her shacking body and her head on his shoulder. She felt frozen, unable to act.
But her Lord's voice was back. He whispered to her his thin lips brushed against her ear. He was encouraging her as he had always done in life.
"It is not over," she felt her lips say and her Lord's words encouraged some common sense in herself. She pushed herself out of Antnin's arms and instead knelt next to him in front of their master's body.
"Revenge?" He questioned, his voice full of anger like hers.
"Of course," she murmured back. Her head was full of schemes of blood lust and torture that would make her master proud.
It was not over. Not even by a long shot.