Post by NPC Account on Jan 1, 2013 15:31:11 GMT -5
There was a somber air around the Great Hall, decorated with ghastly mask showing either grotesque faces or the silver masks of the Death Eaters. Giant pumpkins were also part of the decoration, but not holed like the previous years for the students to sit in. This was not a fun celebration after all, it was a try of the new regime to settle its grip on the school, outwardly giving away information about themselves to make the changes ‘easier to accept’, in truth it was THEM however who wanted information. They had forbidden large gatherings without one of the Carrow Sister’s or the Headmaster’s permission, but they were sure some things were brewing under the surface – and such things could perfectly be observed when the students did get together in a controlled environment. Controlled by the ever watchful eyes of the staff and some ‘friends’ they had invited.
Amycus Carrow was staring intently at the mingling crowd. Later there would be a dinner but instead of the large House tables there were smaller tables, each to be occupied by one member of the staff (and a few fellow Death Eaters) amongst the students. Like this, they hoped to dominate the table conversations, giving the students the opportunity to find out more about the life on Voldemort’s side. If they could really convince many students to join their ranks they did not know, but it would be a start. The new regime was a fact, and they needed to show confidence and strength, showing themselves to have Hogwarts completely under control.
Students had been told that their presence at the feast was mandatory and there were magical ways to detect their entrance and mark them as present, just like they also had to give a subscription on magical rolls with her own name. It was all very neatly planned, and he could not help to let his gaze flicker towards his sister, who had been one of the main heads in devising this evening. Amycus was not a very social man, but tonight he was working for a higher cause, the Dark Lord’s cause. Mingling with a few wet-eared children and trying to convince them that the side of Lord Voldemort was the winning and therefore far more attractive side to be on, should not be too hard. At least they had rid the school from those stinking mudbloods. Amycus had made this one of the prime conditions to even set a foot in the halls of Hogwarts: Before they were not cleansed of the scum that somehow had ended up with a drop of magic in their dirty blood, he would not operate here.
It was by no means a merry party, but that had never been the intention, he thought as he was watching the students looking warily over their shoulders, not feeling at home at all. Hogwarts had ceased to be a home… but that, in return, had been fully their intention. The world was cold and dark, and those students, the future elite of the land, had been mollycoddled far too long.
Amycus Carrow was staring intently at the mingling crowd. Later there would be a dinner but instead of the large House tables there were smaller tables, each to be occupied by one member of the staff (and a few fellow Death Eaters) amongst the students. Like this, they hoped to dominate the table conversations, giving the students the opportunity to find out more about the life on Voldemort’s side. If they could really convince many students to join their ranks they did not know, but it would be a start. The new regime was a fact, and they needed to show confidence and strength, showing themselves to have Hogwarts completely under control.
Students had been told that their presence at the feast was mandatory and there were magical ways to detect their entrance and mark them as present, just like they also had to give a subscription on magical rolls with her own name. It was all very neatly planned, and he could not help to let his gaze flicker towards his sister, who had been one of the main heads in devising this evening. Amycus was not a very social man, but tonight he was working for a higher cause, the Dark Lord’s cause. Mingling with a few wet-eared children and trying to convince them that the side of Lord Voldemort was the winning and therefore far more attractive side to be on, should not be too hard. At least they had rid the school from those stinking mudbloods. Amycus had made this one of the prime conditions to even set a foot in the halls of Hogwarts: Before they were not cleansed of the scum that somehow had ended up with a drop of magic in their dirty blood, he would not operate here.
It was by no means a merry party, but that had never been the intention, he thought as he was watching the students looking warily over their shoulders, not feeling at home at all. Hogwarts had ceased to be a home… but that, in return, had been fully their intention. The world was cold and dark, and those students, the future elite of the land, had been mollycoddled far too long.