The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

So Too Shall We

Harold Minchum's words were upon every copy of the Daily Prophet next morning, blazing in black ink on pale white page. Someone had taken a photogram of the Minister, standing in the rubble, smoke still rising behind him in a dramatic fashion, as he pledged his revenge upon the Death Eaters who had attacked the Ministry.

The article was accompanied by a list of twelve witches and wizards taken into custody at the Ministry following the battle on the atrium floor. Their photos also were published. They would be given trial, and faced life in Azkaban for their tyranny by rising up against the Ministry. Several sheets of wanted pages also were included, identifying 4 more as being positively identified and rewards offered by the Ministry for the capture of anyone who had committed the treason of the siege. Galleons or time shaved from the sentences of others who were guilty - even complete forgiveness in some cases - would be offered to those who turned in any of the suspects.

A reward was offered, too, for any who could provide information on the location or fate of Caradoc Dearborn, who had gone missing during the events at the Ministry. Not a bit more was known other than Caradoc had last been seen in the Minister's office, and though it was suspected he was killed during the battle, there were no remains, no clues to when or how. He had simply vanished.

Voldemort lowered the paper, laying it on the table before him. Harold Minchum stared up from the pages. Masked figures stood 'round the table, heads hung. The Dark Lord seethed, eyes traveling over their faces. "What good are you? Any of you? Filthy, no good bits of rubbish! The lot of you! Useless, spineless jellyfish!" He got up in anger, his chair scraping the floor so hard it scratched the wood floor of Abraxas Malfoy's dining hall. Voldemort turned to the fire, feeling his face and anger burning hotter than the fire in the hearth. "YOU LOOK LIKE IMBECILES!" he bellowed suddenly, whipping about to face them, "AND WHEN YOU LOOK LIKE IMBECILES THEN SO DO I! I am not an imbecile - am I, Crabbe?" Voldemort turned to the first Death Eater nearest to him and pressed the tip of his wand into the man's pudgy cheek. "ANSWER ME."

"No - no sir, you're not an imbecile, sir."

Voldemort's wand relaxed and lowered from Crabbe's face.

The Dark Lord leaned over the paper once more, reading the details of each of his identified Death Eaters, both the ones captured and those there in the room. The article gave details of the captures - names in some cases - and Voldemort's finger ran over the page.

Silence fell on the room, those in attendance too afraid to move or speak. More than once had Voldemort struck one among them down in the heat of his anger.

"If they seek their revenge," Voldemort said darkly, looking up, "Then so too shall we."