Voldemort's Special Treatment

"Fools, every last one of you!"

It was still that resplendent hall. Wizards in black hoods filled both sides of the long table, yet every one of them sat with their heads lowered in silence, afraid that if they looked up, they would meet those cold, terrifying red eyes.

"Why aren't you speaking?" Voldemort walked up to someone and looked down at him. "Antonin, how did you assure me? Is this your answer?"

"You lost a leg, fled back in disgrace like a cockroach, and still dare to beg for my forgiveness?"

"Master, I swear I did everything I could, Master!" Antonin Dolohov collapsed to the floor with a thud, trying to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes dragging across the ground, only for Voldemort to recoil from him in disgust.

That gesture terrified Antonin Dolohov even more. As an old Death Eater who had followed Voldemort since more than a decade ago, he knew exactly what it meant when the Dark Lord no longer accepted a servant's flattery.

It meant that, in his eyes, that servant no longer had any value at all... just as no one would spare a second glance for a ruined shoe.

"It was Malfoy—it was Draco Malfoy!" Antonin Dolohov shrieked. "If he'd killed Dumbledore sooner, we would have completed the mission long ago!"

At the very end of the table, Draco Malfoy felt a gaze fall upon him. Instantly, a chill ran through his entire body, draining every trace of color from his face.

"Nonsense, you despicable coward!" Lucius Malfoy abruptly raised his head, glaring with bloodshot eyes at Antonin Dolohov, someone he had once been on fairly good terms with... a colleague, if one could call him that.

"Draco accomplished what none of you could!"

At that moment, Lucius no longer had the