Irresistible - f.weasley

1: ☆ the dark lords spy ☆

When you picture summer, you imagine a hot sunny gaze peaking down on people laying on the sand. They're surrounded by a cold drink, with a speaker playing music, just loud enough to entertain but quiet enough to not overpower the howls of laughter.

Today's night was unlike that; it was dark and cold, the usual weather here for these long summer nights. A grand house stood firmly on the large property of grass, it's high gates daring anyone to enter. The pathway to the home was littered with a variety of different footprints, leaving black marks to stain the tile. Any spark of color had been destroyed in the front yard garden, the once blooming flowers not rotting in a grayish haze.

From the outside the wealthy looking home seemed like it could be occupied with striking objects and laughing guests; when in reality it was filled with occupants void of emotion and an eerie silence. The only noise in the mansion was the clock perched on the wall, ticking every second with an obnoxious clicking noise.

Although it was deadly quiet, the owners of the home preferred it to be this way, preferred to be able to hear the clock. If you could hear the clicking of the clock, that meant everyone was safe in that moment. At least if it was silent that meant they were protected for the time being; noise meant chaos, and chaos meant danger.

There was someone with a large dark cloak wrapped around his body, sitting up on a large pedestal for a chair. Everything in the room was dark and bland, but this chair made sure to stand out with its luminous green color. It's like the chair was demanding all attention on itself, but the result seemed to be more so directed for the inhabitant placed on it.

The man sitting on the cushion was softly rubbing the top of an reptiles head; a snake. It was slithering in its master's lap, yellow eyes glowing with hunger and it's split tongue hanging loosely from the corner of its mouth. To anyone that entered before them, they had a difficult time deciding whether they were more afraid of the cloaked man or the snake.

He tapped his left foot lightly on the floor below him, making a steady rhythmic beat. He stayed consistent with his foot and counted the seconds as they went by. He had not received news yet, if the attack on London had been successful or not. A-last he did not worry, just waited until a knock came at the door.

"Yes," he hissed out, his lips barely raising as he spoke. The snake's head turned sinisterly to the person walking through the door. An older man with chapped lips and trembling hands made his way and stood before the chair.

"We have received news on the London attack, my Lord," the short man conveyed the update and kept his head hung down low. He had made the mistake of meeting the Dark Lord's eyes last time without permission and was still suffering from the aftereffects of the Crutiatus Curse.

"And?" the cloaked man breathed out, refraining himself from tapping on the floor again. He was much more interested in hearing how his plan had been carried out than the drumming on the wooden floorboard.

"Several establishments in Diagon Alley were burned down," he spoke out quickly, "and Fenrir Greyback led the attack on Millennium Bridge, it has been— it's been disposed of my Lord." At this news the cloaked man took a deep breath in and inhaled the fear he knew he had bestowed on the innocent bystanders of the mission. The world would now know if they hadn't already, he had returned to power, and he would take everything down one by one.

"Very good. I am...pleased," the Dark Lord cracked his lips open and revealed a horrendous line of teeth. They were not only littered with the decaying colors of yellow and black, but they were each pointed sharply at the end. His version of a smile only frightened the messenger more, and he looked away from the cloaked man's face.