Re: Mafalda Hopkirk, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office - Weiland Mulciber
Improper Use of Magic. Just the name of the department made Mulciber nauseous. This was the department responsible for keeping him from using the spells he loved most. Controlling minds, harrassing Muggles, eliminating anyone who stood between him and his goal...
Including the woman behind the desk now. Malfalda Hopkirk, her name was. A frumpy woman, with frizzy gray hair, looking every bit the busybody type that would send little no-no letters to naughty wizards and witches. He was towering over her, in his black robes and shining mask, his wand pointed directly at the center of her forehead. He could see the beads of sweat forming on her brow. He could almost smell the fear in her.
"Greetings and salutations from the Dark Lord," he said, in a showmanlike flourish. "I'm sorry to inform you that your term here in this department has come to an end." He cocked his head to the side. "But before I formally... relieve you of your duties, I do have a question to ask." He leaned in, bringing his face close to hers, his arm cocked oddly so that the wand point remained at her head.
"Have you ever tried any of the spells you rail against in your little posts?"
"Nnnn... no, never," the woman sputtered. "It's... it's illegal."
"So's cannabis, love, but Muggles smoke it all the time," Mulciber said, drawing back. He moved fluidly around her, like a dancer interpeting the movement of a lizard. "I think you ought to try it once, just for a laugh."
He raised his mask and looked her dead in the eyes, and then seized her cheeks. The shock of contact made the woman's eyes grow wider, and in that moment when he spoke the curse, "IMPERIO," she was his.
"Sit back in your chair," he said, and she did, with no struggle and no complaint. Mulciber walked behind her and drew a small lock of hair up from the top of her head. Carefully, he cut the lock loose with a dagger, and slipped it into a small coinpurse he produced from his robes.
"Now," he said into her ear as he leaned down, "I want you to take your wand and jam it into your chest. Don't worry about the pain. There is no pain, I tell you. It will be the greatest sensation you will ever feel in your life. Ultimate pleasure in one thrust."
Mulciber stepped back. He could tell the woman's self-preservation instincts were kicking in subconsciously as she struggled to complete his order. He moved around her again, this time settling on her desk in front of her, eyes locked to hers.
"It's the greatest joy you will ever feel," he said, guiding her wand hand to her heart. "Do it."
With a sickening slicing sound, Malfalda guided the wand into her own chest. She moaned with the euphoria she felt, and tears of joy began to fall from her eyes as she began to laugh.
"One last thing," he said, touching her face, caressing her chin and neck as she laughed. "When the next person opens the door, you will utter the Killing Curse unto yourself. And you will do so with a smile on your face. And you will wake up and find yourself somewhere where the air is clean and fresh, and the sky is blue and the grass is green, and no one ever, ever, ever uses magic improperly." He slid his mask back over his face, hopped off of her des, and strode out to head to the Minister's office.