Something Golden

57.

TW : mentions of implied suicide

August 28 1997

"We still haven't been able to locate them, my lord." Yaxley says. Voldemort takes a slow and deep breath before speaking.

"Your continuous failure disappoints me Yaxley."

"My lord-"

Voldemort raises his hand, silencing him as he calls me forward. I step up from behind, joining him by his side. "Lieutenant." He says, tilting his head to look at me. "Remind your subordinate what happens when one fails to carry out a task."

Closing in on Yaxley in two strides, I grasp the base of his neck and drive my dagger through his right eye, blood spurting onto my cheek as he yells out in agony. Grabbing his wrist, I twist his arm back and push his head down, snapping his arm over my thigh. Yaxley falls to his knees, his left arm hanging limp at his side while his right hand covers his eye.

"Get up." I command. He looks past me and over at Voldemort before staggering up to his feet, the front of his shirt now completely stained with blood.

"Left or right, my lord?" I ask.

"Left."

Stepping around, I puncture the back of his calf with my knife and drag it down to his ankle. Voldemort stands from his desk and heads for the door, myself following behind as I drag Yaxley by his good arm.

As we both walk out onto the floor, everyone stops what they're doing and directs their attention to us, their eyes full of horror as they take notice to Yaxley's mutilated state.

"It appears that there has been a misconception spreading amongst us that effort is equivalent to success." Voldemort announces. "Take this as a warning that a mindset like that will not be tolerated."

Dropping Yaxley on the ground, I lift his head up by the back of his hair and cut open his throat. The room is silent as they watch him bleed out.

"Everyone who was on the lower level the day of the break in will be subject to questioning with Lieutenant General Malfoy. If you have nothing to hide then you have nothing to fear."

As Voldemort dismisses himself I summon Isaacs who immediately comes running forward. "Clean this up." I order. "And send both Runcorn and Cattermole to my office."

August 30 1997

"Draco!" Granger jumps into my arms the second I walk through the door.

"Hello, love." My voice giving away how exhausted I am.

"We were so worried when we hadn't heard anything from you. Are you okay?" Her fingers graze over the cut on the side of my neck. "What happened here?"

"Where's Potter and Weasley?"

"In the living room but Draco-"

"Not now Granger." I snipe, my jaw rigid. "It's not a good time."

Joining the twats, I wait for Granger to take a seat before I begin speaking. I offer them vague details on what has taken place since their little escapade at the ministry and inform them that their location has been compromised. I'm grateful that, for once, I don't find myself having to repeat every word I say. Potter and Weasley begin listing off different locations, each one worst than the last.

"It has to be somewhere with no connection to any of you." I tell them. "Preferably secluded, away from any form of civilization."

The two of them continue talking amongst themselves while Granger pulls me into another room.