A new Head...Death Eaters, rise.

Sandra walked calmly up to Malfoy manner, her hand gripping her wand tightly. The wasnd was nearly a foot long and singed, blackened as though by intesnse heat. Her usually flawless hair, makeup and dress were a disaster, she had not seen civilization for weeks.

Weeks, or months. Or maybe it was only days, or perhaps a few hours. Time had meant so little to her when she was out in the woods. She could notcomplete her mission. It had been impossible. But the Dark Lord...the Dark Lord had requested it. Personally. She could not return until she had satisfied his desires.

Now she was here, to carry on his legacy. To pave the way for his third life, for his true godhood.

I am Sandra Archer She thought as she pushed open the doors to her new mansion. My name will go down in history.

Right.

Next.

To.

His.

Remy was quite obviously out of place standing in front of the large, imposing mansion known as Malfoy Manor. Obvious to herself, at least. Remy had not grown up in wealth, nor had she ever really attained any of her own. The galleons it cost to upkeep the yard was likely more than she had earned in her lifetime - earned honestly, at least - and Remy was aware of it.

But that didn't mean anyone else had to be. Remy knew how people at this level of society - and the people at all levels, if truth be known - felt about appearances; mainly, that they were all that mattered. If you kept up your appearances, no one cared to ask questions about what was happening behind the curtain or closed doors. Remy employed this to her own benefit in her everyday life, even so far as to use it to become a Death Eater.

It wasn’t so hard, pretending to be something you are not. People did it all the time, but they just didn’t admit it to themselves. Sure, there are plenty of adages and bits of advice from suffocating old biddies: “Just be yourself”, “It is better to be disliked for who you are than liked for someone you aren’t”, the list went on. But it was all rubbish. Remy had come to realize that people liked the people who could give them what they wanted. Not everyone wanted the same thing, mind you, but everyone had wants. Praise, favors, company, sex. Everyone needed something, and if they thought they could get it from Remy, she was likely to get what she wanted out of it before the other party realized there would be no return on their investment.

Becoming a Death Eater had been an action of convenience. She didn’t particularly believe in the cause, nor did she share the hatred of so many of the hood-wearing, blood-crazed society types, but she knew power when she saw it. The Death Eaters were a group of powerful, influential, and – on the whole – rich individuals; exactly the type of people Remy liked to surround herself with. They offered her the protection and means to get by, an environment where her ‘shortcomings’ would not be noticed, and what amounted to a human fishing hole for Remy to find her patrons. Remy had needs of her own, and by employing her talents of seduction and convincing she could usually see that they were met, if not by her fellow Death Eaters then by some other poor soul who failed to see through her façade.

But for now she had waited long enough on the stoop. Pulling her shoulders back, Remy coiled her bony, calloused fingers around the serpentine handle of the door and pushed her way into the house. It was dark and quiet, but she knew her way. She had been ready to work her way toward the conference room Lucius preferred for these types of meetings, but before she made it past the entrance hall she was stopped by the sight of another person in her midst.

Remy pulled her hood down away from the crown of her head in order to take the shadow away form her eyes. The woman standing before her was not unfamiliar, though Remy doubted very much that Sandra knew who she was. While Sandra belonged to the inner circle of Death Eaters, the chosen ones with the dark mark burned onto their arms, Remy had never earned a place among the favourites. Remy had not pushed her luck in moving up the ranks of the Death Eaters, maintaining her role as an informant and secret keeper. If she were promoted through the ranks, it would only be a matter of time before someone noticed her magical… inadequacies. Also, it would likely be harder to escape from within the "inner circle" if and when the time came that she had drained the Death Eaters of their purpose. Remy preferred to be in just deep enough to get what she needed, but close enough to the outskirts that escape would be possible.

“I would say good evening, but it hardly seems appropriate,” Remy intoned, shaking out her dark tresses which had been slightly frizzed by the material of her cloak. She had taken on a tone of speech that made note of the far-from-flawless appearance of the higher-up woman, but still carried the weight of respect one in Sandra's position would expect. Remy knew better than to ask how Sandra had come to be in such a state, knowing that if she waited long enough and asked the right questions at the appropriate times, she could find out in other ways. She always did.

Remy knew to be careful how she stepped around Sandra. Women were more difficult to con than men, as most of them could not be seduced by her womanly wiles. Women were also more difficult patrons because they wanted different things than men, and were more complicated when it came to figuring out what those things were and how Remy could exploit them. Sandra had just enough power to be attractive to Remy, the type of power that could provide many things, but she knew she must tread carefully if she was to ever control Sandra without it costing her dearly.

She moved a bit further into the light of the wall sconce, the long black cloak swinging around her ankles. She knew that Sandra out-ranked her among the Death Eaters, and thus she would have to wait to be granted further access into the mansion. It was curious that Sandra should be the one she met at the door, rather than Lucius, but Remy was a patient woman. She knew the old man was bound to show up somewhere, though dead in a ditch was about as likely as around the corner at this point. He was powerful, but not exceptionally good at reading people.

It was how Remy had gotten this job in the first place so, naturally, she didn't object. There was a sucker for everything...

Vincent was not sure whether he should be at the manor or not, whether he should attend the meeting which the new head of the Death Eaters had organized. Though he eventually decided he would, it had been a hard decision. See, his posiition as Headmaster was not something he wanted to risk, if someone spotted him coming to the manor, he would not only be fired, but arrested by aurors. Vincent didn't want to risk that. Still, his loyalty with the Death Eaters, and more specifically, the dark lord was to great. He needed to see the new head, Sandra Archer. Vincent had not met her before, and did not have a very high opinion of her. He hoped though, that she was better than Lucius, whom Vincent had liked, but he disliked his ideas and goals for the Death Eaters. Lucius was far too... cautious. Worried more about his own skin and was not at all loyal to the Dark Lord.

Needing to conceal himself well, Vincent had taken very specific measures. FIrst he had informed the deputy headmaster that he would be away from a day or so to the ministry for an important meeting. The second was that he had to make an important meeting by forcing Delacour to do so. Third, to cancel the meeting so Vincent had an excuse not to go. He also had to use a disillusion charm to hide himself from any sight. That would avoid any one who was possibly tracking him. He expected that from the order anyways, they were the sort to do stuff like that. Perhaps he was being paranoid, most people would think so, but there was no harm in taking extra measures like that.

Vincent calmly walked up to the manor, walking with a stick. Little rest, partly due to overworking, and the pressure of all the recent loss in Hogwarts Staff really took its toll on Vincents health. And his already bad physical condition was worsening. Still, he knew he could be useful for the Death Eaters, with mind if not with body. And then there was his rank as well, a Death Eater who was headmaster and friend with the minister was definately useful.

Vincent pushed open the doors to the familiar manor. When Voldemort had been here, all the Death Eaters came to meet up weekly, they had fallen into dissaray after his death, but hopefully that would change. He saw two women in the entrance room, but didn't say anything.

Hafiz felt his hand burns. The tattoo is moving. He thought it had been awhile he did not feel this kind of sensation. Anxious and excited began to overwhelm his head. He thought that this time Death Eater going to rise once more with honor and dignity. Hopefully with this new leader of this faction, the Death Eater will not fall again.

A dark figure approaches the manor. It obviously can be seen when it passes the moonlight. Hafiz landed on the Welcome rug in front of the door. He knocked and enters. Watching there were three of the members were there. He took a seat and smiled. Without saying a word, he waited for the others to arrive and hopefully they will arrive as soon as they can.

Julia stood outside of the large manor, looking up at it. She sighed and walked in, searching for the meeting room. She found her way into the large dining room and saw Hafiz, Remy, and a few other people. She had noticed the still silence in the room, and decided not to break it by taking a seat. She waited for other people to arrive, watching everyone just stare at the table, not making any contact with anyone else in the room.

The silence in the room had a strange feel to it, it felt eerie and somewhat depressing. The only thing that she heard were people's footsteps and her own heart beating.

Scorpius sat at the meeting table, watching all the Death Eaters arrive. They didn't even bother to knock before entering, that was the lack of respect they had for the Malfoy household. Well, it wasn't really their house anyways, the new 'head' death eater had taken it as hers. But to Scorpius, it was still his house, and as usual he watched the people entering with anger and irritation. It wasn't like he had a say in it though. He calmly watched the Death Eaters troop in, his expression blank, though it changed to one of surprise as he saw Julia there. He didn't know that she was a death eater. He remained silent though, waiting for Sandra to say something.

Faelan arrived He walked in silently and sat down at the table. He looked at all of them few of these people he knew he was surprised to see Vincent there but didnt show it. He quickly shielded his mind with the simple thought of finding a way to take revenge on those that killed his parents. He looked around the table again sizeing them up. He doubted that many among them were actually capable of leading the death eaters.

Sandra watched them assemble.

They were weak. Slow. She did not remember many of their faces, their names. The ones she had known, had trusted, were dead. Killed by the Order or by the others who hated the Dark Lord.

Some of them were children, for God's sake. She saw one boy who was only 15, not even older than....than Noah. While Sandra allowed no emotion to cross her face, her insides were in turmoil. She did not know whether he would show up, Would he come with open arms to the person that had turned her back on him 4 years ago?

She did not regret it though. He was weak. Unfit to serve Him. Unfit to work with her. These people reminded her of him, but they had more hatred. Noah had no hatred. He had no emotion. He was useless without emotion, without hate.

As The Dark Lord's few remaining servants trickled in, she took her place at the head of the table. She did not recognize many of the people here, and she doubted they knew much more than her name. Perhaps introductions were in order.

"My name is Sandra Archer." She said as soon as the last person took a seat, a man by the name of Faeian. "I...regret to inform you that Lucius is unable to lead the Death Eaters any longer." She shot a quick glance at Scorpius, the youngest of the Malfoy clan. He was the most dangerous to her, politically. She had to play her cards right and hope he was nothing like his grandfather if she was to succeed here. "Therefore I am stepping into the role as head of our proud order. I have served the Dark Lord faithfully since I was a student and as any Death Eater who has ever known me will tell you, have always had his best interests and the interests of the Death Eaters at first priority." Again, a quick glance along the table. Any movement of the arms that might indicate a wand being drawn, any twitch of the mouth indicating an incantation being whispered, and odd movements that might show a secret message being passed, all were looked for.

They came out clean.

"I called all of you to gather here today, and I now I call you again. To submit." She said, brushing her hair out of her face. "Any who support me will lay their wands on the table in front of them. Any who oppose will state their reasons and then we'll settle our dispute...the old fashioned way."

Faelan Gave Sandra a cold smile "while i agree Lucius is unfit to lead i am not sure you are either i will not give my support but instead sit back and watch how this plays" out he said leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms his wand in a spring contraption in his sleeve just in case.

Faelan welty wrote:Faelan Gave Sandra a cold smile "while i agree Lucius is unfit to lead i am not sure you are either i will not give my support but instead sit back and watch how this plays" out he said leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms his wand in a spring contraption in his sleeve just in case.

Sandra laughed. It was a strange laugh, one that went on far too long and ended in little hiccups of smaller laughter, extremely similar to one you might expect from a person behind a rubber door and in a shirt with extra long sleeves. After she had finsihed laughing she lifted her wand towards Faeian. "And who do you propose lead then, boy? Yourself? Don't be foolish." he eyes narrowed, and her voice suddenly hardened. "Now either lay your wand at the table or draw it. I have no qualms about killing an unarmed man."