The Pureblood Coup

Bellatrix screamed into the night, “You are either with us or against us!”

“Quiet, Bella. I shall deal with this,” Voldemort answered, maliciousness simmering. The light breeze of before disappeared replaced by an ominous chill.

Voldemort took a couple of steps closer to Malfoy and stood nearly as close to paint on canvas. The lip-less mouth curved as if to speak, revealing bared teeth but he did not say anything. Instead the ferocious crimson eyes hooked onto Lucius’s gray, shrunken ones. Lucius had the tenacity to look back, whilst Narcissa retreated from the two men’s view, going behind Lucius’s shoulders.

Voldemort’s voice was a cacophony as if an explosive detonated. “Your plan is foiled! You have nowhere to go but back to your master. Just like the fiasco that costs me my prophecy, you act in haste once again. Lucius…the pompous aristocrat. He who shall stage a celebration in my honor. And afterwards I take his wife to my bed….Ah, excuse me. What was once their bed. But now is mine! I have seen Lucius’s motivation for greed even in your marriage. Narcissa…Do you know your husband covets you like a good to be sold to the highest bidder? He was not taking measures to protect you and Draco. Rather preventing any further detriment to his wounded pride.”

Voldemort was trying to turn Narcissa against her husband. Narcissa had sensed the accuracy in Voldemort’s statements. But along with it there was a deceptive aggression that always crops up when Voldemort explains something that bothers him. But Narcissa had no chance to process this truth at the moment.

Knowing what was coming Narcissa’s knees buckled and Voldemort said evenly, “Crucio.” Lucius fell to the ground his body tossing in his robes as if on fire. He rolled and flopped like a fish out of water and Narcissa trembled until she fell to the ground too, nearly losing consciousness. But she was still listening to Lucius’s wracking gasps for air. It sounded as if he was choking, which is the way Lucius Malfoy deals with getting the torture curse. Narcissa clutched the valise she had brought with her like a little girl with a teddy bear. She went into the fetal position. Yet ironically, she was not being Crucioed at all.

The anger was of no small proportion. Voldemort maneuveured the curse, magic issuing from his very fingertips. It was to augment the pain at certain pressure points, beginning with the temples of Lucius’s blonde head. The fury lapped inside Voldemort everywhere. Pumping to his heart, to his veins and finally every cell in his body feeling the rage, which is what happens whenever he is especially incensed.

Bellatrix cheered on as if at a quidditch match, waving her fists with glee. She liked to see Lucius fail but most especially she liked to see Voldemort win.

Meanwhile a bunch of Snatchers with the emblazoned ‘S’ badges filed by. Voldemort paid the tramping boots he heard passing no mind. Greyback had just docked the boats with chains mooring the vessals to the land. The men had been instructed by their werewolf leader to get an early start for tomorrow’s operation. For the small but interlocking part they would play in it. All the canoes were lined up, muggles still imprisoned belowdecks. But the boats were quietly docked in the lake as if there was nobody imprisoned deep inside them.

Greyback was the last to emerge out of the trees. His gait loped as he left the small wilderness. Sensing the presence, Voldemort’s eyes narrowed onto him immediately. Recognition dawned on his pallid face.

He relinquished his hold over Lucius’s body. “Bella…Finish Lucius’s punishment for me.”

She answered the call at once, throwing herself on top of Lucius, basking in the chance to dominate him at a weak moment.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix laughed maniacally. With the witch on top of him, Lucius did not writhe. Instead Bellatrix bounced on his lap as if humping him from the front. She loved to feel someone getting the torture curse, as it was a type of mixed sadistic experience with a nostalgic masochism for her. And then using the Diffindo spell she ripped Malfoy’s clothes open from a spell with her wand. She hoisted her own robes up. She saw his cock full of blood, twitching.

She crooned with merriment, “You like this don’t you Lucius?” And Bellatrix nipped the tip of his penis, a minor bite. She leaned forward to rape Narcissa’s husband whilst Crucioing him again, all the while laughing like on a joy ride. Narcissa was not looking. But she remained cowering on the earthen floor, weeping excessively.

Voldemort was walking with the new arrival, his arm looped around their brawny shoulders. They went to a more secluded area, actually entering the forest. They could still hear Lucius’ drawn-out gasps, Narcissa’s moans, and Bellatrix’s jeers, but it was distant.

The voice of the new arrival was coarse and deep, “Then even Death Eaters get their kicks, My lord. You know how I want my booty in desserts…The warmth of Youngling’s flesh fills me up. I’d like to have a bigger supply.”

“And you shall have your cannibalistic desires to whet your palate in the way you wish, Fenrir. When you and the henchmen hoard up all the muggles you can find…I shall give you one corpse for every tenth. Understood?”

“Mhhmm…I mean, yes master.”

“For your efforts I shall let you attend the meeting on Saturday, August second. The following night after the government falls. The Malfoys are hosting a celebration of my rise to power. I shall make sure that you, despite a werewolf are welcomed amongst my elite. Just bring the muggles for us to slaughter…”