He watched as his minions appeared and encircled him. The Dark Lord listened to those that spoke. He knew patience when it was required, but sometimes it was not as required as in other moments. When Antonin spoke, Lord Voldemort turned toward him and arched a hairless eyebrow as he regarded one of his longest followers. When his brief words were done, the Dark Lord laughed, a cold sound that would go straight to the bone of anyone who knew of what he was capable of.
“Did you think the work would be easy?” he asked as his hands dropped to his sides and his gaze remained on Antonin for a long moment. He had, after all, been the only one brave enough to speak to the Dark Lord. “Did you think they would just roll over and change? Did you all think that?” His hand waved through the air as if he was dismissing the entire thought.
“They are children.” The Dark Lord snarled, the anger within him building up. “They think they know better, and even now they think I don’t understand their words and the meaning behind them. Discipline them. Deal with them. They are the children under your care. See to it that they understand what that means. You are supposed to be guiding this future. Deal with them as you see fit, as parents would discipline a misbehaving child.”
“This is a test, my faithful. If you cannot control the children who bear my mark, how can you control the masses who don’t? Do not fail this test. Now return and see to it. I shall give them a reminder of who is in charge and whose will they follow.”