Imogen a Harry Potter taleChapter 62
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Maude Boudicca sat upright in her bed. She had been sound asleep in her room at the Hog's Head, but now was wide awake and listening intently. Her small bedroom was lit by a pair of candles, for she no longer was able to fall asleep in the dark: night held too many terrors now. Hearing nothing, Maude looked around the room, wondering whether she had imagined the sound. And then again the voice, high and cold.
"I'm summoning you now a second time. There won't be a third."
Maude turned towards the whisper. Sitting on the table next to her bed was the source: a small bat, and as she watched, the creature's alien, misshapen face turned towards her. Its mouth opened, baring tiny, needle-sharp teeth which glinted in the candlelight.
"I shall come this instant, Lord," said Maude, addressing the nasty creature.
"I am so pleased," replied the bat. "It will be nice to have company. I'll put on the tea. You won't make me wait, will you?"
"Yes, Lord! I mean no! I'll be there right away!" Maude almost screamed her answer as she leaped out of bed. She threw a robe over her nightclothes, and grabbing her wand, disapparated. An instant later she was at the water's edge, looking at her destination: Castle Stalker.
The castle rose above a tiny island a short distance from the mainland. It was not much more than a keep, there being no room for more elaborate defences. Castle Stalker had dominated the land around it during ancient times, and was a popular tourist attraction. But recently the Dark Lord had taken possession and the tours had stopped. A few weeks earlier a solitary traveller had come by for an unguided visit, but he had been sadly disappointed, for he only got to see the dungeon, where he had remained a few days until it was time for Nagini to feed.
One could not apperate into the castle, and Maude had appeared as close as one could get. In her haste to obey the Dark Lord's summons, Maude had forgotten to put on shoes. She was not even wearing slippers, and her bare feet instantly felt the biting cold of the snow. She ran to the water's edge, whimpering slightly as she cut her feet on a broken beer bottle left by Muggle revelers some months before. Not for the first time she questioned her decision to enter the Dark Lord's service. In the half-decade since, she had done her best to emulate her mentor, Bellatrix Lestrange, and in that time had kidnapped, tortured and murdered her fair share of victims. At first when committing such crimes, she had felt a surge ofempowerment, but as the novelty wore off, so did her enjoyment. Maude attempted to banish her regrets, knowing that she had to govern her thoughts when in the Dark Lord's presence.
A small boat waited for her, and after she stepped into it, the craft made its way across the shallow water. Arriving, Maude jumped out and ran to the castle. She touched the wall with both hands, and felt her way in the darkness until she came to the rear entrance door. It opened at her touch, and she charged up the stairs and into the castle's Great Hall.
The hall was nothing so grand as the only other Great Hall she had known, at Hogwarts. But it was still impressive, or would have been had it been illuminated. The chandeliers gave forth no light, and little came through the windows. Maude stepped forwards hesitantly, the slight echos of her shuffling feet surrounding her. She stopped in the middle of the hall, breathing heavily and hoping that her heart would slow down. Less than five minutes before she had been in her bed, warm and comfortable, and feeling as secure as it was possible for any Death Eater to feel. Her previous visit to the castle had gone well enough, when the Dark Lord had honoured her by personally giving her a task: the first time she had been privileged to receive an order directly from his lips. Maude supposed that her summons this evening related to the report she sent a few hours before going to bed.
"Yes, you are right," said Voldemort, appearing suddenly a few paces before her. "I summoned you because of the message you sent me. You called it a 'progress report'. But it contained little about any progress."
Voldemort's vertical eye slits narrowed with anger as he spoke. Maude could not see this, for she was on both knees, her body stretched out and her forehead touching the cold stone floor. But the Dark Lord's voice made his attitude clear enough. He was displeased, and Maude's entire body began to shiver as she heard Voldemort's words. Thus far the Dark Lord had only been making an observation without calling for a reply, and therefore it would be out of place for her to speak. She focused instead on trying not to vomit with terror.
"Are you telling me that this is the best that you can do?" sneered Voldemort, looking down.
"I always do my best for you, my Lord," said Maude, her voice faint and tremulous.
"All that you've given me are a few scraps of information: not much better than idle gossip. 'They're planning something!' you tell me."
Voldemort opened the letter Maude had sent him, and continued to quote from it. "Here's another tidbit: 'Something is going to happen near the end of term!' Then you promise me 'more information will be coming soon!'"
Jane
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