Outside the door, Voldemort saw the emblem on the dais and the Curse-Breaker Hendry trapped in an illusion. He watched as, in a daze, the man cut off his own hand, gouged out one of his eyes, and knelt on the ground, letting the blood on him flow backward into the altar. Voldemort frowned, turned his gaze toward the other Curse-Breakers hiding off to the side like quails, and gave a slight shake of his head.
After a moment's thought, the Dark Lord turned his gaze again to Yaxley, who stood nearby with his head lowered, silent. He raised that large, pale hand and pointed at the shattered door, ordering coldly, "Yaxley, your will is a little stronger than these useless things. Go in."
"Master..." Yaxley looked up in shock. In that hurried instant, sweat broke out across his forehead under Voldemort's stare, but he did not dare find some excuse to refuse.
With her understanding of the Dark Lord, Bellatrix was quick to read the room and spoke in her shrill voice. "Does the coward not understand? As long as you possess enough will, you won't fall into madness when you see that thing!"
"Master, Mr. Yaxley's usual tone... seems rather greater than his actual ability. Why not let me go?" Snape gave a contemptuous sneer and stepped forward to volunteer. Inwardly, Snape had already made his judgment as well: the Dark Lord probably wanted someone to test the strength of this trap, and only because he understood that those weak Curse-Breakers could not withstand the intensity of such an illusion had he made Yaxley try it. As one of the Death Eaters who had come from the United Kingdom, Yaxley had recently become less likely to be casually wasted by Voldemort. And since the Dark Lord was not