Who: The Dark Lord and the Inner Circle Where: Cemetary near the Riddle House When: Tuesday Evening Why: Some things have to be dealt with Rating: Moderate. Annoyed Voldie
He had decided to be patient, but that was all that he had decided to do. As he read the note from one of his Elite, it crumpled up in his hands before the whole thing lit on fire in his palm. An instant later, he was flinging the ashes away from him. The rest of the evening his annoyance was very palatable. It could be felt as a wave in front of him, wherever he went that evening, and throughout the next day. Anyone with any intelligence at Hogwarts all day, was elsewhere. There were times when avoiding the Dark Lord was just the best form of medicine as he had no qualms about taking his annoyance out on whoever got in front of him.
Once the sun began to go down, however, the Dark Lord would be nowhere to be found in Hogwarts. No, this required someplace else. Someplace with a little more of the proper feeling. And as gloomy as Hogwarts might have been with him in possession of it, it didn’t have the proper feeling for what he had planned. No, he needed someplace else and he knew just the place. If anyone had a flare for the melodramatic, everyone could agree that Lord Voldemort was just such a person. The cemetery near his family home was just the place for this summoning, a summoning that had been performed there once before.
His black robes hung loosely on his frame as he pulled it taught over his shoulders. With a flick of his wrist, in the pile of branches and logs that had been collected lit into a bonfire casting light and shadow all over the area. Then, the Dark Lord closed his eyes and focused his thoughts. “To me.” was the words that escaped his lips. The spell that followed would make the Dark Mark crawl on each of his Inner Circle members, as his summons reached out telepathically through his mark to them. The discomfort of the moving tattoo would only grow if any of them dared not to respond to his summons immediately.
Once they were all present, in their circle around him and the fire, the Dark Lord would take a moment the look each of them in the eye. Those that took the longest would get that glare even longer than the others, but at first he was silent as he stared upon each of them. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the fire would diminish in size so that even those on the opposite side of him could look upon him. Only then, did he speak in that whispery hiss of his, even though nobody would have any problem hearing his words.
“You are my most trusted.” He began, even as he was in constant motion. He walked around the fire, his gaze meeting each in the eye as he moved around. Nobody was spared his glare. “I have given you all power and responsibility. This land and everything upon it is yours for the taking for your years of loyal and unquestioned service. England is once again a land of the Pure, where those beneath us toil in our service due to our strength and conviction.”
“And yet, you cannot control simple children. Tell me, did I make a mistake in choosing you as my most Faithful? Has my Inner Most Circle failed me?”