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Yaxley had leaned forward to look down the long table at Voldemort and Snape.

All faces turned to him.

“My Lord, I have heard differently.”

Yaxley waited, but Voldemort did not speak, so he went on, “Dawlish, the Auror,

Let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns

seventeen.”

Snape was smiling.

“My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No

Doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time;

he is known to be susceptible.”

“I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain,” said Yaxley.

“If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain,” said Snape. “I assure you,

Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The

Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry.”

“The Order’s got one thing right, then, eh?” said a squat man sitting a short

Distance from Yaxley; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the

Table.

Voldemort did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upward to the body revolving

Slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

“My Lord,” Yaxley went on, “Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be

used to transfer the boy –“

Voldemort held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching

Resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Snape.

“Where are they going to hide the boy next?”

“At the home of one of the Order,” said Snape. “The place, according to the

Source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could

Provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless,

Of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the

opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest.”

“Well, Yaxley?” Voldemort called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely

in his red eyes. “Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?”

Once again, all heads turned. Yaxley squared his shoulders.

“My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great

effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse.”

Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbor, Dolohov, a

Man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back.

“It is a start,” said Voldemort. “But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must

be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister’s life will

set me back a long way.”

“Yes – my Lord, that is true – but you know, as Head of the Department of

Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister

Himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be

Easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the



others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down.”

“As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the

rest,” said Voldemort. “At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine


Date: 2015-12-11; view: 658


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