The air thickened with tension as Voldemort's gathered servants waited in anticipation for the name of the person, no, the pure blood witch or wizard who would be killed to set an example.
It was not the first time a pure blood had been targeted in their attacks. It had happened before. But this time was different.
This was to be a major killing, a targeted strike for a very specific purpose. Everyone could sense, by the way the Dark Lord had been preparing for it, that it would be a prominent name.
Meanwhile, Voldemort rose from his seat, the same evil grin curling his lips.
"This is going to be our first big move," Voldemort said, his tone cold and deliberate.
"We are fighting for a cause, a cause to secure for the true inheritors of magic, the pure bloods, the pure descendants of ancient magic, their rightful place in society. A cause to put the impure, the Mudbloods, in their proper place."
"But there are some fools, fools who instead of aiding our cause, actively try to obstruct us. They oppose us. They try to stop us from succeeding in our mission."
"And we must make an example of a few of them so that everyone else falls in line," he declared.
"Seven days from now, we will strike our first target," his cold voice boomed through the hall as he spread his hands. "Edmund Bones."
Voldemort's words struck the hall like a thunderclap. Edmund Bones. The name was not unfamiliar, on the contrary, they all knew it too well. None of them had expected his name to be called.
Reinhart Lestrange, still kneeling on the ground, reeled from shock. He had expected Voldemort to name someone, perhaps even someone important but Edmund Bones was no ordinary target. He was a very powerful and influential figure in the Wizarding Britain.
The Bones family was far from an ordinary magical lineage.
They stood second only to the top four families. Black, Potter, Longbottom, and Malfoy.
Led by Edmund Bones, they were one of the most prominent faces openly opposing the Dark Lord and his aims. Every tactic of appeasement, threats and pressure had been tried to bend Edmund Bones to their cause, but the man had never relented.
Reinhart's eyes bulged in shock and disbelief as he processed the name through his mind.
Voldemort, it seemed, had expected such a reaction. He anticipated the silence and the stunned faces of his followers.
"Afraid, are you?" he asked with a chilling chuckle. No one answered. His gaze turned to Reinhart.
"Afraid of the man, or afraid of making such a big move?" he pressed.
Reinhart stammered, "My lord…" but he had no answer.
"If we hesitate to make bold moves," Voldemort echoed through the hall, "how will we ever fulfil our purpose? How will we achieve what we have set out to do?"
"I do not want any hesitation or holding back on our part," he commanded. "The Bones family must be weakened. They are an irritation to us."
Then he offered the temptation. The carrot.
"Families loyal to me, loyal to our cause must rise and take their rightful place," he added, and at this, the eyes of many gleamed. Unless the obstacles in their path were removed, how could they ever ascend?
"Are my words clear, Reinhart?" he questioned.
"Yes, my lord," Reinhart replied, taking a deep breath. He had to do it, for the sake of elevating his family's status. Because he had no other choice. He cannot say no to the dark lord. No one could.
And though it brought little comfort, his son's foolishness had opened a golden opportunity for him. If he accomplished this task well, his standing in the eyes of the Dark Lord would be greatly improved. Maybe he could get some early rewards.
"Good," Voldemort nodded. "Prepare for the task."
"Dismissed," he barked, and then vanished on the spot.
It should not be surprising. The mansion was equipped by wards. Powerful wards. And only the Dark Lord himself possessed the authority to apparate inside the manor.
As the Death Eaters, the glorified servants of the Dark Lord, exited the manor, an uncomfortable silence hung among them.
Usually, after such meetings, they would be quite chatty, loudly declaring their dreams and ideals. How the Mudbloods would be shown their place, turned into slaves, how all sorts of pure blood propaganda would ring out unabashed.
But today, they were all silent. Reality had struck them squarely in the face. One of their own, a pure blood, and a prominent one at that was to be killed. Killed by their own hands.
Among them, a particular wizard walked with his fists clenched, a sense of irritation and unease on his face, though his expression remained hidden behind his mask. It was Lucius Malfoy.
From the moment Edmund Bones' name had been revealed, Lucius's mind could not stop replaying the words Antonio had spoken at the Bellatrix's gathering in response to his question.
"Pure bloods will never be fighting muggle born. They will be fight each other."
"They may set and declared whatever agenda they want, but it would be just a disguise to grab more power."
"Fight against muggle born, fight for muggle born, everything be will be a mere show put off to take more power. Muggle born will only be collateral damage in the war of pure bloods that would be fight in their name."
All these words were continuously flashing in Lucius' memories. Had Antonio been correct? Would this war damage the pure blood more than the muggle born.
"Lucius," his father's words who had been walking next to him snapped him out of his daze. Abraxas Malfoy, lord of the Malfoy family.
"Father," Lucius replied.
"Come," he said. "We must give our regards to lord Lestrange and Rodolphus."
Lucius gave a nod as they duo walked towards Reinhart Lestrange and his son, who being floated by Reinhart in an unconscious state.
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