The Pureblood Coup

Screamguy: Thanks for your reviews. The snake, Nagini does have more of a part to play later. Oh, and I thought of Veritaserum to use on Andromeda and Ted…but I do not think they had it on them.I think Voldemort might have asked Snape for some and Snape lied to Voldemort saying he did not have any for the interrogations. And well, it takes a full moon cycle, as we know, to mature.



Sheherazade: Thanks, once again. I will be revealing more cool details of Malfoy manor as the story goes on. The night is only going to get more fun...disastrous fun!






Chapter Nine: Two Suns in the Sunset




Everyone hurried down the main staircase, and then down the narrow corridor, passing the candle-filled Drawing Room on the right, and at the end of the corridor, they took an exit that led to outside.



The large fountain was playing right outside, and it took a minute to cross through the garden to the back of the house.



There was a long line of neatly trimmed bushes, only about three feet tall. Fairy lights shone in the short bushes, like muggle Christmas lights, twinkling in the dustiness of sunset. Yet the weather was far from Christmas-like, as it was hot and humid.



Finally, everybody was congregated for the next part of the show in another area of a garden, gathering in front of the fairy-lit bushes, facing the direction that went towards a lake with a secluded fen. Beyond the fen was the thick forest, stretching out along the horizon the sun visible between the trees. The crowd watched in this direction, and they saw dozens and dozens of canoes appear out of the horizon passing through the woods, sailing through the lake, veering rapidly towards the fen.



At the head of the line of canoes, was Fenrir Greyback, the ring leader of his band of Snatchers, standing at the helm of his canoe. The canoes glided along magically, without any oars being necessary, and so much more difficult to tip over, and it is why the werewolf could stand.



In the boats, people huddled: Muggles of all ages, confused, from all sorts of spells cast to dim their wits. From Confundus charms and Imperius curses, and Silencing charms being the most prominent. The Snatchers had assembled the muggles during Voldemort’s rallying of the guests. And so, the henchmen had brought to the property through the lake the hundreds of muggles they had captured and imprisoned over the past few weeks. Voldemort had initially, planned this slaughter with Greyback.



A lone hooded figure appeared, hovering in the glimmering orange sky, amidst thin, cirrus clouds of summer swirling. The crowd’s vantage point being such a distance, they were not sure whether it was a Dementor or not. Yet it was Voldemort, and from a distance, he actually resembled a Dementor.



A moment later and a storm engulfed the lone figure. It was like a locust of hundreds of cloaked and hooded figures gliding. The Dementors responded to the lone figure, loyally, considering Voldemort to be their master. Voldemort somehow, in the throng of Dementors commanded them only to suck the souls of those unable to perform magic. Yet the Dementors had no effect on the Dark Lord's emotions at all. His soul was so unbalanced and ripped, that these dark creatures, naturally could not effect his mood.



As the storm of Dementors descended, the crowd watching in the garden out back of the house reacted. An elephant patronus, and a few cat patronuses cajoled forward, with a tiger and a hare patronus amongst others appeared. Yet known of them glowed brightly, because nobody was really enjoying the spectacle before them. Not a single one of these patronuses was from a Death Eater. Except Severus Snape, alone by himself, nobody noticing him. And nobody heard in the screams and chattering, Snape roar, “Expecto Patronum!” Out of his wand, shot forth a silvery doe. Snape gallantly directed the doe, with his wand to protect the others, and she galloped away from him.



The guests continued to watch, whilst all twenty-five of the Death Eaters ran, and filed through the small, wrought-iron gate between the glittering fairy-lit bushes. Upon entering, the Death Eaters splashed gaily through the shallow marsh, coming closer and closer to the Dementors. Only Lucius was most discontent with getting his feet wet, and was not delighted like the others.



Snape, was the last Death Eater to go through the gate as he was reluctant to take part in the muggle sporting, yet he knew he must or else he might blow his cover tonight, as to the real side he is on. Still, an ugly sneer suffused his pallid face, for he wanted to watch the executions. Snape would enjoy seeing the Dementor’s kiss.



Instead of wading through the marsh like the rest of the Death Eaters, and several dozens of the more curious and eager guests, he rose up into the sky. Snape had learned a few tricks from his master, including how to fly without broom or other means of support.



His billowing robes whirled wildly, as it was windy at this high altitude, and he lifted a hood from under his robes. He flew like a great bat through the sultry atmosphere, the wind rushing, drowning out the loud, excited drone of hundreds and hundreds of people below.



As he came closer, he headed to the eye of the storm, in which Voldemort was commanding at the center. It was calm there, all was quiet. Snape was suddenly faint, and the color was quickly draining from him. Although he wanted to enjoy the show, he could not cast a Patronus to repel the Dementors he was passing. Doing so could indicate his true loyalties. Memories of his grim past flooded his consciousness, as he stole past the hideous creatures that were making him almost ill. He thought desperately, “Just a little further…”



The Dementors were having a much worse effect on him than the other Death Eaters. Many had of course endured Dementors in Azkaban for years. Yet Snape had not, and his past was far worse than most and he experienced the pain because his conscience was true.



But finally he made it to the center, where Voldemort was. Assisting his master, he took his wand out. He turned to face Voldemort, whose face was a flaming blur in the last rays of daylight. Only Snape and Voldemort had a knowledge and practical application of the Dark Arts so extensive, that they could actually control the Dementors.



Down below, Bellatrix Lestrange joined the other witches and wizards who were swishing their wands like swords, setting celebratory explosions of red sparks into the air, shooting like firecrackers.



The Dementors idly descended, to feast on the hundreds and hundreds of muggles, lined up in rows in the fen. Bellatrix, ran through the ankle deep water, through yellow grasses, laughing like a giddy schoolgirl. It was a fantastic opportunity for torture and she took up the cause: “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!…” And she continued…Slashing her wand, in which encircled her the droves of clueless muggles. She watched them fall like ducks, screaming. They seemed to be drowning in the torture curse, as they writhed in the shallow water, coughing up the brackish water. Bellatrix was having a field day, it was so much fun.



The muggles felt a palpable, ominous fluctutation. The humid, summery warmth dissipated. There were so many Dementors, that the sky was no longer visible, the inky redness of it blotted out.



Shockwaves of rattling breaths erupted, and then they exhaled together, the foul breath like the stench of death rent the air. The Dementors navigated, remarkably sightless, yet like magnets they knew just where their prey was.



The crowd watched from a distance, unscathed, and the sunlight still reaching them, though it was weaker, overcast and shadowy from the Dementors’ presence. The party was lucky they could not feel the Dementors who were a few hundred yards off, plus they had seven Patronuses standing proud on top of the fairy-lit bushes.



Some of the Death Eaters screamed shrilly along with the terrified muggles, as the Dementor’s blanketed them. And they watched the kisses occur practically on top of them. They could feel their own despair, the peace, hope and happiness drained from them, their energy gone, yet the Death Eaters screamed violently like they had done in the cells whilst staying in Azkaban. Yet they still managed to torture muggles before they would be Kissed.



The Dementor’s were withdrawing the hoods, to the hideous nothingess of their visage, revealing two, empty sockets and a hole of a mouth. The Dementors swarmed, darting everywhere looking for a victim. Hands glistening, grasish, slimy and scabbed, several clamped onto a victim’s throat. Sucking noises broke the air, as they began to kiss the muggles. It was unbearable enough to witness one Dementor’s Kiss, and now dozens were going on at once.



People in the crowd watched, their hands pressed tightly to their own mouths instinctively. Some of them moaned, wails of horror at the ghastly sight. A minority of them began to retreat, knowing it was safe to leave the party now. These were the people, who showed up, and did not know Voldemort was going to be there, and did not agree with him at all.



They continued to feast on the muggles of all ages, some of them infants whose soul departed in their mother’s arms.



It took only about five minutes and then nearly seven hundred muggles were nothing but empty shells. Their souls, completely irretrivably gone…But none of them were dead…yet.



The din of screams and shouts of horror subsided as it ended, and there was a false lull. Everybody still alert, waited breathless. A mist, that became as a thick as a fog enveloped the surroundings. It was the dementor’s breeding after their feast, yet the odd thing was nobody could actually see how they were procreating. Mist was actually, in it’s bileness coming out from underneath their robes. It was like they were creating death, instead of life.



Another couple of minutes passed, and the Dementors retreated at Voldemort’s orders from at the center, and the last of the blood-red sunset was visible again. They broke off to circle the outskirts of Malfoy manor, making it an arduous, unpleasant task for anyone to enter and for anyone to leave. But if they could do a Patronus and command it correctly, they might make it…









So that was pretty much a brief Holocaust, of which wizards are responsible. This chapter is again, named after a Pink Floyd song about a nuclear holocaust. And Snape does say in Half-Blood Prince book that there is indeed an alternative way to control Dementors besides Patronuses. I wonder what this method actually is though. This horrific scene is not over yet!