Chapter 764: Voldemort’s Favor
"Idiots, all idiots!"
It was the same resplendent hall. The long table was lined with wizards in black hoods on either side, but none of them dared to lift their heads, fearing that if they did, they would meet those cold, terrifying red eyes.
"Why aren’t you speaking?" Voldemort asked condescendingly as he stepped closer to one of them. "Antonin, is this how you assure me of your loyalty?"
"You lost a leg and came back like a stinking rat, and you expect me to forgive you?"
"Master, I swear I did my best, master!" Antonin Dolohov fell to his knees, desperately reaching out to kiss Voldemort’s trailing robes, but Voldemort disdainfully stepped away.
The gesture only deepened Dolohov’s fear. As an old Death Eater who had followed Voldemort for more than ten years, he knew exactly what it meant when the Dark Lord no longer accepted a servant’s submission.
It meant that, in Voldemort’s eyes, that servant was completely useless—something not even worth a passing glance, like a broken shoe.
"It’s Malfoy, it’s Draco Malfoy," Dolohov squeaked. "If he had killed Dumbledore earlier, we would have finished the task!"
At the far end of the long table, Draco Malfoy felt a gaze fall upon him. A chill ran through his entire body, his face turning ghostly pale, devoid of the slightest trace of blood.
"Nonsense, you despicable coward!" Lucius Malfoy suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes locked onto Dolohov. There had been a time when they had been on good terms—colleagues, of a sort.
"Draco has done what none of you could do!"