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Chapter Thirty Nine: The Perfect Pawn

Malfoy Manor was pretty much empty. When Lucius Malfoy was thrown into Azkaban, it was picked dry of pretty much anything of value or in fact dangerous. That simple fact meant that the Ministry of Magic would have no reason to barge into the Manor inviting so it made a perfect temporary hideout for Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort sat on a dusty armchair in the Malfoy sitting room, drumming his fingers in anticipation. The only reason that Voldemort wished to use the Manor as a meeting place now as he didn’t want to let non-Death Eaters in on the location of Salazar Tower and this young man was far from being Death Eater material. Still, Voldemort was willing to give the boy a benefit of the doubt for now for the simple reason that the Dark Lord wanted to prove a point. The point that he was more resourceful then Dumbledore in every way and could manipulate an impressionable teenager to do his bidding, something that Dumbledore failed to do with Harry Potter.

“Enter,” hissed Voldemort coldly as he heard a knock from outside the door. The door creaked open, and one of his Death Eaters walked inside, before kneeling down in front of Voldemort. “Speak.”

“He’s here, my Lord,” said the Death Eater shortly.

“Send him in,” answered Voldemort curtly and the Death Eater rose to his feet, walking towards the door, before waving Voldemort’s guest in from the outside of the room.

Draco Malfoy walked into the sitting room, with mixture of curiosity and pleasure etched upon his place. He was absolutely pleased that the Dark Lord had chosen him for some unknown mission but he couldn’t help but wonder what the Dark Lord had in store for him. Draco kneeled down, bowing low at the feet of the Dark Lord.

“On your feet, Draco,” said Voldemort calmly and Draco hastened to obey. “Do have a seat, I have much to discuss with you.”

Draco looked at the Dark Lord, curiosity evident in his eyes, as The Dark Lord remained silent for a half of a minute for dramatic effect.

“Events have not been going as they have been intended for you, Draco,” hissed Voldemort. “Recently you have found yourself expelled from Hogwarts and your father most recently was put in Azkaban.”

“It’s all Potter’s fault!” snapped Draco before he could help himself. “If that scar headed son of a Mudblood bitch hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin I would’ve attained my rightful place as the leader of the Slytherin house at Hogwarts. Instead, I’m expelled and then my father was thrown into Azkaban.”

“You blame Harry Potter for your misfortunes Draco,” hissed Voldemort coldly.

“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, my Lord,” said Draco in a quiet voice.

“Draco, I agree, Harry Potter is to be blamed for your misfortunes,” said Voldemort. “You had an excellent future, you would have been the Slytherin House leader even, and your father would be here right beside us right at this moment had it not been for Harry Potter.”

Draco nodded, with an angry look on his face.

“You can change that all, Draco,” hissed Voldemort. “You can undo everything and you can return to Hogwarts. The only thing that is standing in your way is Harry Potter.”

“Absolutely, my Lord,” said Draco. “If I ever meet up with Potter again, I’ll make him and everyone he loves pay.”

“That’s the type of attitude I like to see from my Death Eaters,” said Voldemort calmly.

“But, respectively speaking, sir, I’m not one of your Death Eaters, yet,” said Draco in a small voice.

“Not yet, Draco, but you can be,” hissed Voldemort. “Your father was one of my top Death Eaters and I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to have the same opportunity. You will get your mark Draco, in due time. I only ask one small favor of you.”

“Anything, my Lord, I live to serve you,” said Draco with a greedy look in his eyes. It had been his ambition to serve the Dark Lord as one of his Death Eaters and now he was getting his chance. It was like a dream come true.

“Draco, I want to kill Harry Potter!” hissed Voldemort in a venomous voice.

“Kill Potter, my Lord,” said Draco in a slightly apprehensive voice.

“Is there a problem, with that, Draco?” asked Voldemort coldly.

“No, absolutely not, my Lord, you can consider Potter as good as dead,” said Draco in a pompous voice. “I will not let you down, Master. I will not fail”

“Good and Draco, I would suggest wiping out as many of Potter’s allies that you can on your mission,” hissed Voldemort, pleased that Malfoy was following his orders blindly without any question. “You have until the end of the next school year at Hogwarts. The price for success will be a dark mark but the price for failure will be fatal.”

“I will not fail,” repeated Draco in a reassuring voice.

“Excellent, you may leave me now, Draco,” said Voldemort and Draco obeyed the Dark Lord, walking from the room with a bit of a cocky, self assured strut in his step.

Voldemort watched the Malfoy boy go, pleased with the fact that he sent young Draco on a no-win mission. The boy may have believed that he could hold his own with Harry Potter, but the fact was quite laughable. Malfoy would get steamrolled by Potter in no time flat in a fair duel. Draco had lost two years of magical education thanks to his foolish actions and Potter had proved to be a tougher adversary then many of the older wizards that Voldemort had crossed wands with.

Lucius was a fool for getting himself thrown in Azkaban and Voldemort would break him out eventually, as he was still of some use. However, Draco was disposable and would pay for his father’s sins. Voldemort would not send a competent Death Eater like Bellatrix, Dolohov, or Snape on a mission like this, because he couldn’t risk the chance that they might come back. Draco would either get killed in his attempts to kill Potter or he would be spectacularly fail, giving Voldemort a perfect reason to execute Draco to serve as an example for failure.

Voldemort disapparated from the scene, returning to his throne room in Salazar Tower, preparing to meet with his Inner Circle within the next hour.

Outside of her own sitting room, Narcissa Malfoy sat in a chair, deep in thought, waiting for her son to return from his meeting with the Dark Lord. The house had been cleaned out of all the valuable artifacts whether they were dark or not by the Ministry. Her husband was in Azkaban, her son was a Hogwarts dropout, her sister Bellatrix had lost the majority of her sanity because of prolonged exposure to the Dementors, and her other sister Andromeda disgraced the family name by marrying a Mudblood. The Ministry hadn’t yet managed to seize all the gold from the Malfoy Family Vault but they were working on attempting to make a treaty with the goblins to seize the assets of convicted Death Eater. It was rumored that the goblins were getting a pretty good cut out of the seized assets.

Draco walked into the room and Narcissa was jerked out of her thoughts.

“So, Draco, how did your meeting with the Dark Lord go?” asked Narcissa in a cool voice.

“Mother, the Dark Lord spoke very favorably of me and entrusted me with an extremely important mission,” said Draco. “This just shows the trust and the faith he has for me. Father might have made a blunder but I can make up for his colossal failure.”

“What is this mission, dear?” asked Narcissa in an apprehensive voice, a nagging suspicion in the back of her head that the Dark Lord was going to order Draco to do something that he had no chance of pulling off with any success.

“The Dark Lord wants me to kill Harry Potter,” answered Draco in a happy voice. “Isn’t that great, Mother?”

“The Dark Lord wants you to kill Potter,” replied Narcissa calmly.

“Absolutely, it just shows that he is confident in my potential,” said Draco in a pompous voice.

As much as she wanted Potter dead for making a mockery out of her husband and son, Narcissa doubted Draco had much of a chance of surviving a duel with the Boy-Who-Lived. Potter had come closer to defeating the Dark Lord then anyone had ever managed, something that the Dark Lord had grudgingly admitted. Draco had nowhere near the experience or power of the Dark Lord or Potter for that matter because of Draco missing the last two years at Hogwarts.

“That’s nice, Draco, just be careful,” said Narcissa.

“Mother, I don’t need to be careful, that’s for Potter,” said Draco pompously. “I will single handily bring down Harry Potter.”

Narcissa watched her son leave, before signing. He just had to inherit Lucius’s ego and Narcissa could only image what the Dark Lord was telling Draco to give in an inflated view of his own abilities. Draco was going to get himself killed, either by Potter or the Dark Lord and even worse, Narcissa could not do anything about it. The Dark Lord would kill her if she spoke out against him.

Narcissa rose to her feet, walking down the hallway to the room that Bellatrix was hiding out in. Even through her sanity wasn’t what it what was, Narcissa still valued Bella’s input greatly on anything that was troubling her. Bellatrix’s room was at the end of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa knocked on the door, hoping that her sister hadn’t been summoned by the Dark Lord for whatever reason.

“Come in,” said Bellatrix from inside the room and Narcissa opened the door. “Ah, Narcissa, do sit down.”

Narcissa walked across the room and sat down on the edge of her sister’s bed.

“Draco just met with the Dark Lord,” said Narcissa without hesitation.

“Really?” asked Bellatrix in a surprise voice. She would have thought that the Dark Lord would have wanted nothing to do with Draco after he unfortunately got himself expelled from Hogwarts after he picked a fight with Potter and fired an Unforgivable curse at the Brat-Who-Meddled-With-The-Dark-Lord’s-Plans. “I’m sure you’re so proud of your son, Cissy.”

“I would be in any normal circumstances but not after the mission that the Dark Lord gave him,” said Narcissa

“Now, Narcissa, I’m sure you’re just being a mother and worried about your son, but The Dark Lord knows best and I doubt he would entrust Draco with something to difficult his first time as a Death Eater,” said Bellatrix. “What is it anyway, he’ll have to torture and kill a couple of filthy Mudbloods?”

“If only it would be that simple,” said Narcissa. “The Dark Lord wants Draco to kill Harry Potter.”

Bellatrix stared at her sister for a few seconds with an incredulous look before breaking out into a loud round of cackles, which caused Narcissa to glare at her.

“Oh, the Dark Lord ordering an underage wizard to kill Harry Potter!” cackled Bellatrix madly before looking at the completely serious look on Narcissa’s face. “Wait a minute, you’re serious, this is exactly what the Dark Lord ordered Draco to do.”

“Unfortunately,” said Narcissa in an even voice. “This is about Lucius getting put in Azkaban. He ruined the Dark Lord’s plans, whatever they may be and now my son, my poor son, is going to be punished for what my husband did.”

Bellatrix remained silent for a few moments, not wanting to go against her Master or her sister.

“Narcissa none of us can be sure of the Dark Lord’s intentions these days,” replied Bellatrix after a long, uncomfortable pause. “He keeps the full details of his plans to himself. Even I don’t quite know all of what the Dark Lord has planned. His most trusted, his most valued servant, and I am left pretty much in the dark. I know more than most but there is much that I don’t know. ”

“The Dark Lord seems more obsessed with destroying Harry Potter then the purification of the magical race,” said Narcissa in an uncertain voice, wondering if she should really voice these opinions.

Bellatrix regarded her sister’s words very carefully. Deep down, she had the same thoughts briefly. The Dark Lord did seem to be focusing on killing Potter more so then purifying the magical world. Still, she managed to make herself think that her Master had good reasons for this obsession.

“The Dark Lord has a grander vision then any of us could every think of, Narcissa,” said Bellatrix sternly. “You ought to know that by now, everyone who goes against him will end up dead, Harry Potter will learn that soon enough.”

“I’m not questioning the Dark Lord’s ability to destroy Potter but does anyone else have a chance?” asked Narcissa.

“Single handily no, the only way I can see any of us having a chance with Potter is if a group of us ambush him at a time and even then it is an uphill battle,” said Bellatrix seriously. “Potter doesn’t fight in a traditional way, he overwhelmed an entire group of us and those who got away were lucky. The Dark Lord can match Potter in every way, the brat is talented and powerful, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“Draco doesn’t have a chance then,” said Narcissa in a terrified voice. “Why does the Dark Lord have to do this to Draco, Bella?”

“The Dark Lord has his reasons, Cissy” said Bellatrix calmly before adding. “Unfortunately, I can agree with you that Draco doesn’t have a chance against Harry Potter.”

“There’s got to be a way to get him out of this!” shrieked Narcissa in a shrill voice. “Can’t you reason with the Dark Lord, Bella?”

“No, I can’t,” said Bellatrix calmly. “I’m not sure if the Dark Lord really wants to know about this but my Occlumency is sufficient enough that I can hide the fact you told me about Draco’s mission. Still, reasoning with the Dark Lord would not be the best idea with his current mindset, because I’m not certain exactly how he might reaction to me knowing.”

“There has to be something I can do to help Draco,” said Narcissa.

“Actually, I can train him in the dark arts if you would like me to,” suggested Bellatrix.

“Thank you, Bella!” exclaimed Narcissa graciously.

“I’m not sure if Draco will accept my help, but I’ll find someway to convince him,” said Bellatrix. “He does need a fighting chance against Potter.”

Narcissa nodded in agreement. Draco may have convinced himself that he could kill Harry Potter but the reality of the situation showed something exactly different. She hoped that Bellatrix could manage to get through to her son, or Potter would just crush Draco underneath his foot.

In a dilapidated house in Spinner’s End, Peter Pettigrew walked across the room, hating Severus Snape. In the past few days, Snape had been forcing Wormtail to be his personal slave. The Dark Lord obviously feared Peter’s potential and was trying to keep him in line, but one day, even the Dark Lord would fear the name of Wormtail.

“Wormtail, do hurry and bring me those stewed slugs,” said Snape calmly. “The potion would not be as effective if they are not added promptly.”

Wormtail walked over, grabbing a glass jar with the stewed slugs, before walking them over to Snape, who was bent over a cauldron, stirring some potion for the Dark Lord. Snape took the jar of stewed slugs, without acknowledging Wormtail.

“Wormtail, I’m done with you down here, but you are now to clean the upstairs bedrooms,” ordered Snape.

“Now, wait a minute, Snape, I was sent her to assist you with potions, not be your slave,” said Wormtail.

“Would you rather the Dark Lord exterminate you like the rodent you are?” asked Snape coldly.

“No, of course not,” said Wormtail, hurrying to do what Snape told him before adding underneath his breath, “Snivellus.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite caught that, Wormtail,” said Snape coldly.

“Nothing, Severus,” said Wormtail quickly while thinking one day that he would make Snape pay, alongside Lord Voldemort. He would live up to the potential that he was told he had all those years ago at Hogwarts. Black and Lupin would beg for their lives as well and finally, Wormtail plotted to do something that no one else had managed to do, kill Harry Potter. The Dark Lord failed, Oroku Saki came close but still failed, Bellatrix, Lucius, and many other Death Eaters also failed. Wormtail would be known the world over as the man who brought the greatest Dark Lord in the entire history of magic and the Boy-Who-Lived down.

Snape continued to work on the potion. The Dark Lord wanted this noxious brew for yet another ritual, a ritual that Snape didn’t quite know the full details of, the Dark Lord only gave him a list of detailed instructions to create this potion. No Death Eater truly knew the full details of anything, a security measure to keep his plans from leaking out like the first time around. Dumbledore was getting rather irritated with Snape’s lack of details and Snape had a strange, foreboding suspicion that he didn’t have much time left. The Unbreakable Vow and the Dark Mark were conflicting, causing Snape to have migraine headaches for hours and even days. All but the strongest potions proved to be ineffective in treating Snape’s ailments.

A couple of counter clockwise stirs and a dash of blood from a rabid rat completed the potion. The final instruction was to let the potion stew for exactly twenty four hours and then store the potion in a sub zero environment until use. When stored in such conditions, the potion would be able to be used for a period of five to seven years before it went bad.

Snape felt his dark mark on his arm burn. He walked outside of his Potions lab, sealing the door shut and charming it against intruders. He didn’t want Wormtail to snoop around in his lab for whatever reason or mess with his ingredients. When Snape was certain his lab was secure, he disapparated for his meeting with the Dark Lord.

Lord Voldemort sat on a wooden chair in his throne room deep underneath the cavernous areas of Salazar Tower. He heard multiple pops, signaling the arrival of his highest ranked and most experienced Death Eaters. All three Lestranges, Dolohov, and Snape got on their knees and bowed down to the Dark Lord.

“To your feet,” ordered Voldemort with a hiss and the Death Eaters hastened to obey. “I have called you all; as you are my most trusted and valued followers. Lucius was not as crafty as I had assumed and he was thrown into Azkaban. He will rot for some time until I can find a use for him.”

Voldemort walked over to a glass case that contained the scrolls that he took from Hogwarts, along with a very tattered book that he had Lucius bring him from the Ministry.

“These are among the tools that will help me complete the next phase of my plan,” continued Voldemort. “These scrolls have secrets of power that you could not even dream of but this book may be just as valuable. It was a failed artifact created by the Ministry during my first attempt at power, in a futile attempt to locate my Death Eaters. The idea was promising but those at the Ministry had insufficient knowledge to make this book truly work with any success.”

The Death Eaters looked at the Dark Lord.

“However, I have the knowledge to weave the missing spell work necessary to make this book work,” hissed Voldemort. “Of course, locating my own followers is redundant as I can just as easily do that through the Dark Marks on your arms. The book will be modified so I can find and then wipe out every Mudblood in Wizarding Britain.”

The Death Eaters cheered at that notion as a knock was heard from the outside of the Dark Lord’s throne room.

“And it appears that our guest of honor has arrived,” hissed Voldemort turning to the door. “Bring him in.”

The door pushed open to reveal two Death Eaters dragging the battered and beaten form of one Igor Karkaroff towards the Dark Lord. Karkaroff whimpered as the Death Eaters tossed his battered body towards the ground.

“M-my Lord,” said Karkaroff in a weak voice. “You have returned.”

“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort causing Karkaroff to scream out in pain. Voldemort held the curse on for a few seconds but it seemed liked an eternity to the weakened wizard. After the curse was broken, Karkaroff collapsed to the ground, as the two Death Eaters who brought him in dragged him to a standing position. “I have returned some time ago, Karkaroff and you decided to flee like a coward. The same coward that turned in several of my followers to the Ministry to save his own sickening skin.”

“My Lord, please, I had to,” said Karkaroff desperately, attempting to find some form of pity within the Dark Lord.

Unfortunately for Karkaroff, Lord Voldemort had no room for pity on this day.

“No, you could have waited in Azkaban for my return or perhaps you got in your head the foolish notion that I would never return,” hissed Voldemort and Karkaroff began to whimper.

“Please don’t kill me,” muttered Karkaroff in a weak voice.

“Igor, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be alive right now,” hissed Voldemort. “I need able bodied minions and that is where you’ll come in, my follower.”

“Of course, my Lord, Master, thank you for your gratitude, I’ll be happy to stand side by side, fighting for our cause again,” said Karkaroff but before he could say anymore, Voldemort put him under a silencing charm.

“You personally have no use to me Karkaroff, but the students from Durmstrang do,” hissed Voldemort venomously. “I require a list of the most talented students ever to come out of that school, is that clear Karkaroff.”

Karkaroff nodded fearfully, not wanting to further draw the wrath of the Dark Lord.

“Excellent, I will be in touch regularly to make sure you don’t get any ideas of attempting to flee or double cross Lord Voldemort,” hissed Lord Voldemort, waving his hand and the two Death Eaters who dragged Karkaroff off just as quickly as they had dragged him in. The two Death Eaters seemed to have great pleasure in roughing up the table and indeed, Voldemort derived great pleasure in seeing that spineless coward getting abused.

Voldemort watched as the door to his throne room swung shut before turning to address his top ranked Death Eaters.

“Now, with him out of the way, your Lord needs to address an issue of most importance,” declared Voldemort, looking at his Death Eaters with his narrow, red slit like eyes. “Harry Potter.”

Voldemort let that name sink in, taking in the combination of muttered curiosity and hateful hissing from his top Death Eaters. The Dark Lord waited for the noise to die down before once again addressing his Death Eaters.

“As you remember, last time we dueled, Potter survived and managed to escape,” hissed Voldemort. “I admit that Potter is not someone to take lightly and is one of the few worthy adversaries I have dueled with. However, Potter’s success against Lord Voldemort was highly dependent on one skill that I lack, something that I certainly plan to rectify. Potter is skilled in a Muggle martial arts style known as ninjitsu, the only skill that Potter has that I lack.”

“Surely, my lord, you wouldn’t waste your time learning such a useless Muggle skill,” declared Rodolphus Lestrange.

“There are ways to acquire a skill without wasting countless time learning it, Lestrange and it is far from useless, as it is the only skill Potter has that has kept him alive,” responded Voldemort. “The scrolls I have required contain a ritual to absorb the talent and knowledge of others, causing them to become nothing but empty headed shells of their former selves. Once, I am through with my business partnership with Oroku Saki, I will trap and absorb every bit of knowledge he has in the field of ninjitsu. Saki’s ninjitsu skills shall be mine but why stop at the ninjitsu abilities of just one person?”

“Where are you going to find the people with these abilities, my Lord?” asked Dolohov curiously.

“Dolohov, from my travels, I found that the Muggle world has paid assassin that are among the best in the world in their fighting styles,” answered Voldemort. “I never had any reason to act upon this knowledge until this moment but I had never had an adversary who mixed elements from both Muggle and Magical fighting styles so well. A few Aurors have attempted to learn Muggle fighting but their skills were quite limited. The top Muggle assassins throughout the world will be located. You’re to come back to me if you come across anyone whose abilities I should test to see if they are worthy to partake in the ritual.”

“Exactly how will you test these assassins to see they prove worthy, my Lord?” asked Bellatrix, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Excellent question, Bella,” remarked Voldemort. “The security measures around the border of the United States may prevent us from getting into the country but they only affect the unwanted witches and wizards, especially those who reek of dark magic. There is nothing that prevents us from sending death dealing Muggle assassins after Potter. If they can last fifteen minutes with Potter or those infernal reptiles that he hangs around with, in battle, then they will prove themselves to be masterful warriors and thus their skills will be worthy of my consumption.”

The Death Eaters stared at their Master. He seemed to be obsessed with the destruction of Harry Potter on the surface but they were certain that the Dark Lord had some greater scheme that would pay off in the end. Potter had indeed kept getting in their Master’s way and managed to escape their last encounter.

“You may all leave now,” ordered Voldemort. “Severus, stay put, I require a word with you.”

The Death Eaters other than Snape began disapparating from the Dark Lord’s throne room, leaving the Potions Professor alone.

“Severus, when can I expect the potions that I requested to be completed?” asked Voldemort.

“Rather soon, within the next couple of weeks at least,” said Snape calmly.

“Very well then,” said Voldemort. “Store them and I will summon you when I require their use.”

“Absolutely, my Lord,” replied Snape wishing nothing better than to leave. His headaches were returning and he still needed to report to Dumbledore about he learned before he called it a meeting. “Will there be anything else you require of me?”

“No, that will be all, for today Severus,” answered Voldemort. “You may return and continue working on my potions. Do inform me if Wormtail is being too much of a nuisance so I can deal with him appropriately.”

Snape nodded before disapparating and leaving Voldemort alone in the throne room of his headquarters to plot.