Under his cloak with a snort.

A handsome manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive,

Lights glinting in the diamond paned downstairs windows. Somewhere in the dark garden

Beyond the hedge a fountain was playing. Gravel crackled beneath their feet as Snape and

Yaxley sped toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though

Nobody had visibly opened it.

The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent

Carpet covering most of the stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the wall

Followed Snape and Yaxley as they strode past. The two men halted at a heavy wooden

Door leading into the next room, hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then Snape turned

The bronze handle.

The drawing room was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The

room’s usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination

Came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded

Mirror. Snape and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold. As their eyes grew

Accustomed to the lack of light, they were drawn upward to the strangest feature of the

scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table,

Revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and reflected in the mirror and in

The bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this

Singular sight were looking at it except for a pale young man sitting almost directly below

It. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upward every minute or so.

“Yaxley. Snape,” said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. “You are

very nearly late.”

The speaker was seated directly in front of the fireplace, so that it was difficult, at

First, for the new arrivals to make out more than his silhouette. As they drew nearer,

However, his face shone through the gloom, hairless, snakelike, with slits for nostrils and

Gleaming red eyes whose pupils were vertical. He was so pale that he seemed to emit a

Pearly glow.

“Severus, here,” said Voldemort, indicating the seat on his immediate right.

“Yaxley – beside Dolohov.”

The two men took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table

Followed Snape, and it was to him that Voldemort spoke first.

“So?”

“My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current

place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall.”

The interest around the table sharpened palpably: Some stiffened, others fidgeted,

All gazing at Snape and Voldemort.

“Saturday … at nightfall,” repeated Voldemort. His red eyes fastened upon

Snape’s black ones with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently

Fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Snape,

however, looked calmly back into Voldemort’s face and, after a moment or two,

Voldemort’s lipless mouth curved into something like a smile.

“Good. Very good. And this information comes –“

“ – from the source we discussed,” said Snape.

“My Lord.”

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 625