Wraith Chpt. 15

Chapter Fifteen: Messenger




"When you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite."




Within the Ministry of Magic, things were as busy as ever, even in the hours before dawn. But the last year had seen changes that most considered incomprehensible. Such drastic changes of policy such as the Muggle-born Registration Act caused everyone to watch their steps within the underground walls. The towering new statue that had replaced the Fountain of Magical Brethren gave the Ministry employees an air of foreboding, as did the increased number of dementors gliding about while they worked.

One relatively new Ministry employee entered through the emerald green flames of one of the wall of fireplaces and strode with confidence through the atrium. Unlike many of the others, the new statue gives him an air of righteousness. He smiled and nodded to the few he considered contemporaries as he made his way up to his new office.

But when he unlocked the door and entered his office-there was someone already within.

She was seated behind his desk, one finger tapping a rhythm upon the hard surface. "You are very nearly late, Rabastan Lestrange."

Rabastan froze and then one hand automatically went for his wand. Wraith's strange eyes followed the motion.

"You know better," she murmured gently. "You are welcome to try anyhow, if you feel you must, but you do know better."

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "If this has something to do with my brother's wife-"

"Oh, do be quiet, Rabastan," Wraith said softly. "Why am I anywhere? He sent me, of course."

"The Dark Lord?"

"No other commands me," she reminded him. She smiled just slightly and tilted her head. "And I hold Bellatrix responsible for her actions. No one else. I don't believe in guilt by association."

Rabastan visibly relaxed. "But why has the Dark Lord sent you?"

Wraith closed her eyes and sat back in his chair. "He wanted me to ask you: Have you been enjoying your new job here at the Ministry?"

Rabastan nodded hesitantly. "Of course, I-"

"Our Lord is curious as to why he has not received a report on your progress."

Rabastan paled and mumbled something of no consequence. Wraith sighed lightly and stood, coming around the desk. Rabastan flinched, stepping back quickly, his back pressed against the door. Something flashed in Wraith's eyes, but too quickly for Rabastan to see.

"The Dark Lord sent me to remind you that though you are loyal, you cannot afford to be complacent. He expects you at the Manor tomorrow night. I recommend that you have something to give him."

Rabastan swallowed and the nodded. Again, Wraith smiled slightly and then dipped her head in a gesture of farewell. Before Rabastan could blink, she was gone.   




Back at the Manor, Voldemort rested in his chair, eyes closed, breathing in the light scent in the air of her room. Some mixture of rain and rose that lingers around him. Her scent, he imagined, and strange how he never noticed it when she was present, only when she was not there.

"My Lord?"

His eyes opened. "Wraith," he said, seeing her standing behind the couch. "Your report?"

She came around the couch to stand before him, hands clasped behind her back. "He is very loyal, Rabastan. When I'd finally convinced him that I was not there because of his sister-in-law, he quite noticeably calmed."

"I was never in doubt of his loyalty," Voldemort told her, looking to the fire, "only of his usefulness."

The corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. "I can only hope that you will always find use for me, my Lord."

"I doubt there will ever come a day that I do not, my Wraith. Continue."

"I delivered your message, as you ordered, my Lord. You may have to call upon him yourself," she said. "He may not have taken me completely at my word."

"Oh, I believe he did. He is not so foolish as to disregard a messenger of mine."

"I think I rather like being your messenger," Wraith said, relaxing her pose. "It was almost fun."

Voldemort gestured for her to sit and she did so, as usual, as his feet.

"And you've been quite successful, my Lord," she continued. "They are all terrified of me."

"Of course they are, my Wraith," he said, running a hand over her pale cheek. "How could they not be?"

She raised an eyebrow, and a hint of humor glinted in her eye. "Are you flattering me, my Lord, or your own handiwork?"

"It rather amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?"

"It does," she agreed.

The humor, he mused, stroking her hair, that dark humor he first saw in her cell at Azkaban. "If you are not he, then who would you be?" He smiled just slightly and she noticed it.

"My Lord?"

"Go and fetch the house-elf," he commanded her. "Tell him I desire a glass of wine."

"Yes, my Lord," she said, standing and bowing before she left.

There, he thought after a few moments, there is that scent again. It suited her, he imagined. Rain and rose both. Almost cold, that scent, but then she was always cold herself. And the roses-did she see them in her dreams? When she looks upon them in the garden, do they stir something inside her?

He pulled himself out of his contemplation when she reentered the room, a goblet in her hand. She offered it to him and he took it, studying the dark liquid within.

"Elf-made wine," he murmured. "Of course, Lucius would have this in his pantry." He sipped, half retreating into his thoughts once more. "Have you ever partaken of elf-made wine, my Wraith?"

"No, my Lord," she said as she sat once more. "I've had no desire to." She smirked, "A life in Azkaban has formed me into a creature of simple tastes."

He offered the goblet. "A sip," he told her.

Wraith carefully took the goblet and put it to her lips. After a small taste, she handed back the goblet. "I'd offer an opinion, but since I've never had wine before…"

"I'd take it you'd prefer a cup of tea instead?"

She shrugged. "I'd take the tea over the wine, I suppose, but I wouldn't turn down the wine if offered, my Lord."

"You are an agreeable creature, aren't you?"

"Only so much with you, my Lord."

"As it should be," he said.

They both looked up at the soft knock on the door. Voldemort sat back in his chair, taking another sip of the wine. "Enter."

Snape opened the door and paused to bow, taking the moment to study the scene before him. The Dark Lord seated comfortably before the fire and Wraith at his feet.

Wraith lifted her eyes to his briefly and there was something of a challenge in them.

"Ah, Severus," Voldemort said. "You are early."

"My apologies, my Lord."

"Unnecessary," the Dark Lord replied.

"Should I leave, my Lord?" Wraith asked.

"Also unnecessary, though you may, if you wish to."

"I think I do wish to," she said, getting to her feet. "It's close enough to dawn; I might go back to bed."

"You say that as if you've been to bed at all."

"It's true that I haven't yet," she said. "All the more reason to do so now."

She dipped low, her dark skirts a fan around her feet. "My Lord." She glanced at Snape and again there was a challenge there. She nodded to him respectfully despite it. "Severus."

She started to turned, but paused when the Dark Lord lifted his hand to beckon her back. He offered the goblet once more. Wraith took it, without taking her eyes from his, and took one last sip. A small, but satisfied smile came to the Dark Lord's face as she gave the wine back. It was echoed on her face before she disappeared into her bedroom.

Snape felt chilled at the odd intimacy between them, but cleared whatever dark thoughts he may have had from his mind as the Dark Lord turned his attention to him.

"I've found something of a paper trail, my Lord," Snape said. "I believe it leads to one of Davies's suppliers."

"Hm, well done," Voldemort said. "Between you and Wormtail, we may have found the lot. Who have you discovered?"

"A wizard by the name of Augustus Linsolm."

"The name is familiar," the Dark Lord mused, drinking of the wine again.

"He's owns a nightclub in London." The word seemed distasteful to Snape. "A very popular establishment for some of my fellows; your followers, my Lord."

"And why would he be foolish enough to cross me?"

"Linsolm is the kind of fool that will do anything for a profit, my Lord."

"I see." Voldemort drained the goblet and Snape noticed that his eyes drifted towards Wraith's door. "Be sure of what you have found, Severus. Then we shall pay Augustus Linsolm a personal visit."

"Shall I return to Hogwarts then, my Lord?"

Voldemort nodded. "Yes, for the time being. I shall call upon you when I find the need."