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Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 1: The Initiation

Draco Malfoy sat in a chair located in the Malfoy Manor, deep in thought. Today would be the day when he was initiated as a Death Eater. He had been waiting for this day all his life, but now something was holding him back, and he needed to find out what.

It wasn't his father, as Lucius had been impressing the importance and significance of the event upon Draco since Day 1. It wasn't his mother, who encouraged him just as much as his father. It wasn't anything of his own conscious being. So what was it?

As Draco sat, Draco thought. He wondered why he could possibly be having doubts now, of all times. This was definitely not a good thing. The Dark Lord would be able to sense his weakness, and would kill him for it. No, this was not good at all.

He wheeled through a mental list of the people he knew that might have expressed doubts to Draco's decision. One name popped up in particular, and Draco knew that was the problem. Snape. He had never said anything to Draco directly, but subtly hinted that he was repeating the same mistake his father did whenever they came in contact. And if there was one person in the whole world that Draco did not want lacking support from, it was Snape.

A knock on the wooden door to the room in which Draco was pondering shook him out of his mental reverie. It was time to go, as his father so kindly pointed out, looking rather beside himself with pride. Draco nodded and rose, pushing the thoughts to the back of his head. If Snape couldn't understand why he had to do this now, he never would. And that was fine with Draco.

A circle of black hooded figures surrounded Draco, who was on his knees. The mist of the graveyard made him choke on his own breath, but he refused to show weakness. Such things were not done in the presence of the Dark Lord. He did not accept flaws in his followers, and Draco was determined to convince Him that he was flawless.

The circle parted, and a lone figure stepped forward. Draco looked up, but remained where he was. This was the final test that he had been destined for, ever since the day he was born. Voldemort stepped forward, moving closer to the young Malfoy one step at a time. Draco suppressed a shudder. He had never been this close before, and the aura surrounding his presence was almost overwhelming. Almost, but not quite. The Dark Lord spoke.

"Do you believe that you are worthy of being one of my loyal followers?" The words were spoken in a soft hiss, but Draco heard every one of them with remarkable clarity. He averted his gaze back to the ground, as was proper when addressing someone of such stature.

"Yes, My Lord." His voice was strong, but Draco still had to work to keep a slight tremble from ruining his chances.

"What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy, My Lord."

"Malfoy, eh? Your father has proved to be one of my most loyal followers since the day he joined me. Is the same to be said of you?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Is there one among the others who will vouch for you?" Lucius stepped out from among the throng of hooded followers.

"I do, My Lord."

"And you believe your son has the commitment and guile to be one of my followers?"

"I do, My Lord. Draco will prove to be one of if not the most loyal servant under your command." Lucius stepped back into the circle as Voldemort turned back to Draco.

"Are you willing to prove your loyalty?"

"Yes, My Lord." Voldemort gave him the slightest of nods and raised his wand. "CRUCIO!"

A jet of red light shot from the tip of the wand and hit Draco squarely in the chest. Draco screamed. A burning sensation spread from the point of impact through all his body, and he had the feeling that every fiber of his being was being torn apart millimeter by millimeter.

Eventually the pain subsided, and Draco found himself face down on the ground, inhaling mist as if it was real air. Then, it came back again. And again, and again, and again.

Then it finally stopped.

Voldemort remained standing where he had been, a look of pleasure scrawled on his features. He commanded Draco to rise, and he did so, ignoring everything that was telling him to stay down.

Voldemort chuckled evilly.

"You have proven yourself worthy to follow me." Voldemort stepped forwards, and took Draco's left arm. With one spindly finger, he pressed on the exposed skin of the forearm. The smell of burning flesh permeated the surroundings as the skin grew dark. When Draco looked down, he saw a symbol of a skull and snake tattooed there. He bowed and kissed the hem of Voldemort's black robes.

With that, the Dark Lord, and Draco's new master, turned his back to the boy and Disapperated.

The other Death Eaters followed suit, until only Draco and Lucius were left in the graveyard. Draco collapsed the moment they was gone, unable to hold his body up for any longer. Lucius scooped his son up into his arms, impressed that he had been able to hold out for so long. The Dark Lord's earlier words echoed in his mind as he Transmuted a rock into a Portkey.

He might prove to be one to watch out for after all.