08 | finite

                                    

                                          



0 8
                          
f i n i t e   i n c a n t a t u m
                          
Terminates all spell effects.



                          
WHEN THE DARK Lord brought up the matter of a new elite group at the next meeting, the surprised looks from the other Death-Eaters were almost too good to be true. Draco bit back a smirk and stood up, waving the seated Death-Eaters to join the rest.
                          
"My lord," Yaxley protested, with a sneer in Draco's direction.
                          
The Dark Lord didn't react.
                          
"Don't piss on my fucking parade, Yaxley, move," Draco whisked his wand in Yaxley's direction and the man slid across the floor, coming to a sudden stop and tumbling down because of the abrupt momentum. Some of the Death-Eaters laughed.
                          
"Right." Draco threw a glance over at the Dark Lord, who watched with a gleam in his serpentine eyes. "Any suggestions, my lord?"
                          
"I quite trust your judgement."
                          
"Thank you, my lord." Draco dipped his head in faux gratitude. He pointed at Bellatrix and tried to keep the flush of anger down. "Auntie dearest."
                          
Draco tried not to think about hitting her with a killing curse there and then, although he was highly tempted to do so every time he laid eyes on Bellatrix fucking Lestrange. He loathed her, especially after seeing her torture Hermione in front of his very eyes.
                          
With his skill at Occlumency, he'd kept his hatred for her well-hidden. And Bellatrix was clearly overjoyed that someone in her family shared her ardent (twisted) love and fervour for the Dark Lord. "It would be an honour, Draco."
                          
Draco ignored her and pointed his wand in the direction of his friend. "Pansy Parkinson." He didn't miss the twinkle in his friend's eyes as she stepped forward. "Maisie Donalds. Graham Pritchard. Malcolm Braddock. Alecto Carrow. Guthrie Rhodes," he smirked when Theo shot daggers at him from across the room. "And Theodore Nott."
                          
"Just nine?" This came from MacNair, who seemed annoyed that he wasn't picked. "To break into Azkaban? My lord - "
                          
But before either the Dark Lord or Draco could intervene, Bellatrix stood in front of the group, brandishing her wand at MacNair with an unhinged glint in her eye. "You dare doubt our capabilities?" She hissed, sounding absolutely furious. "We would never be picked if my nephew didn't think us capable of breaking into Azkaban!"
                          
Draco smirked. It seemed Bellatrix was useful after all.



                          
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"What was that?"
                          
Draco ignored Pansy, who had begun yelling the moment they were back in the apartment. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Firewhisky from the fridge.
                          
"Draco! Do you know how hard it is to break into Azkaban with only nine members?"
                          
"Keep your knickers on, woman, and let the man drink." Theo grinned and leaned against the counter. "Oi, Draco, throw me a bottle, will you?" He caught the bottle that Draco tossed at him and, after a quick chug, he set the bottle down. "You know, I really thought you'd forgotten about me, mate. You can't have fun in a fight without me."
                          
"Yes, speaking of having fun in fights, why wasn't I picked?" Blaise asked.
                          
Draco cast a surreptitious glance over at his bedroom before turning back to Blaise. "You're the tenth member."