AN: Written for Moose's: The Ten Commandment's Competition over in HPFC.
I chose Commandment #1 and #7. Hope you like it.
Endless hugs to Caz :D
Theodore Nott was the first to receive the Dark Mark after the Dark Lord's return. Even before his classmate Draco Malfoy. Nott Sr. had been training his only son for the much awaited return of his Lord. And in the summer between Theodore's fourth and fifth year he had finally become what he was trained and raised to be. A Death Eater. Since being marked, Theodore Nott had been the most faithful follower of the Dark Lord and believer of his word.
He was the darkest secret of the Dark Lord. No one knew about him. And he wanted to keep it that way. Theodore honored, respected, idolized and followed his Lord. Every order given to Theodore was carried out with perfection. Not one mistake did Theo deliver; only excellance. He was getting way better than Bellatrix Lestrange. The only time that Theodore showed any signs of craziness was when he tortured and killed. He would get a gleam in his green eyes, a twisted smile, and a color to his face. If a classmate or his quirky ex-lover could see him in moments like that, they would be shocked and utterly terrified of him.
Theo had been trained by the hand of his dear Lord that summer between his fourth and fifth years. Since he could walk, his father Abelard had been training him, using various dark spells on his son to teach him endurance. The Dark Lord was impressed that nothing really could bring down Theodore. He was fast, cunning, calculating and silent in his killing. Those green eyes showed that he was more mature than his sixteen years of age and that he could hold secrets deep inside his soul.
No one would suspect that he was the Death Eater who left Igor Karkaroff unrecognizable.
Theodore Nott was at his darkest time of his life. He had broken things off with Luna, the only person who had kept him sane throughout the killing and torturing of innocents. He had followed his Lord's and his other self's – his darker self's – instructions. Luna was a distraction. She was his weakness. And the Dark Lord didn't like weakness in his followers. Theodore hated weakness and would never imagine bringing shame to his dear Lord, so he had decided to cut off things with Luna, even though it had hurt him to do so and in the process it had hurt her as well.
Theodore was not himself anymore. Since becoming a follower to the Dark Lord, he had received three things: the Dark Mark on his left forearm from his Lord, a nasty scar from his father's dagger and lastly that other part of him-his other personality. The part that liked to hurt, kill and have power over his inferiors. He was a sadistic, cruel, selfish, evil person. Nott.
With Nott, Theodore didn't feel bad while he did all those things – killing Muggles, destroying the blood traitors or taking his time to kill Karkaroff – because really it wasn't him doing these things. It was Nott and he had control, not him, not Theodore.
"Theodore, you have showed me excellence. Not one single error. You're far greater than your useless father," Voldemort said to his faithful follower.
Theodore, who was kneeling in front of his Lord, lowered his head, a smile appearing his face. The old man had gotten angry that his son was getting better and ranking higher than him. Finally, thanks to the help of Nott, Abelard was scared of his own son, the same son he had tortured since he was practically a baby.
"Thank you, my Lord," Nott answered, kissing the hem of his Lord's robe.
"I even noticed that you broke things with that eccentric girl – she was in the Ministry. Was she not?" the Dark Lord hissed.
Theodore's green eyes widened. For a moment he felt fear that his beloved Lord would kill Luna for being officially part of Potter's group. Biting his lip, he nodded. "Yes, my Lord."
"I'm quite displeased. I thought she would be faithful to you and not to Potter."
This made Theodore feel pure hatred for Potter. He had never really paid attention to the boy – he was boring and always depressed and so messy looking. But Potter had taken the only person he really cared for and had almost got her killed! Even though Theodore had hurt Luna that didn't mean he'd stopped caring for her. "My Lord, I'll make sure that – "
"I hope your little friend doesn't make the same mistake twice, Theodore. Even though you two aren't together doesn't mean you have stopped caring," the Dark Lord said amusedly with a hint of distain, making Theodore feel as if he had been showered by cold water. His Lord wouldn't hurt Luna. Theodore had been faithful and obedient. He had followed every single order. His Lord would never do anything to hurt his followers, right? "Now I believe that the only way for me to be able to know that you're still faithf – "
"My Lord, I will never betray – "
"Silence!" the Dark Lord snapped. He flicked his wand and Theodore's forehead stuck to the floor. "How dare you interrupt me? This shows me that you're rebellious, young Nott. How do I know that you're faithful to me now that your little chit is running around with Potter, who is the enemy? You would prefer to be on her good side than fight for the cause."
Theodore felt again that he had been hit by cold water. He would never betray his Lord; he cared for his Lord, he was the perfect follower and he wanted to bring pride to the Dark Lord in every cut, curse, hex and murder. It was all for his Lord.
"I want you to track down Karkaroff. It seems that your fellow Death Eaters are too idiotic to find him. And when you do, I want him to regret ever betraying me and lament running away like a coward. Kill him. Make sure the world knows it was us." The cold voice of Lord Voldemort reached his follower's ear.
Theodore nodded as much as he could. "Of course, my Lord. It will be done quickly and swiftly. In your name." Nott's voice held a hint of glee from anticipation of the upcoming game of cat and mouse.
Theodore and Nott both loved the perspective of hunting that he had gained since his fifth year. Theodore was a smart young man who with a simple observation knew what people were like. The abundant knowledge that he had kept to himself made him into a bright mind and during his fourth year he had noticed something strange and just off radiating from Igor Karkaroff.
It didn't take him long to find Karkaroff in a dingy shack in upper Britain. And when Theodore entered, he frowned; it smelled disgusting and was so messy that he wanted to throw up. But seeing Igor's black eyes become afraid – well, it made Theodore forget the horrid smell that was oozing from this place. Theo smiled slowly, nodding his head toward his intended victim. Karkaroff looked so ragged that he resembled those Muggles who didn't have homes. The older man's back met the only window of the shack, his dark eyes pleading. Karkaroff didn't know who it was, this man with skeleton-like features, the slit eyes of a snake and a midnight black robe covering his body. "Please, I-I'll do anything!"
Theodore smirked evilly behind his mask, feeling a thrill rush through his body. He loved this, having the control in his wand of Kraken heartstring to kill anybody he wanted. He was silent when he neared the man before him. Karkaroff tried to sidestep his attacker, but it was to no use. Nott was much faster and younger. With a quick flick of his wand, Theodore cast a spell and immobolized Karkaroff where he was. Nott didn't speak a word as he walked closer to him; his cold green eyes and twisted smile were hidden behind the mask. When Theodore was near, he could feel the pure fear that came off Karkaroff in waves. Licking his lips, Nott let his wand do two flicks, making Igor scream in pain. The man's skin would feel like it was burning – it even sounded as if it was sizzling. Which it was. Igor screamed and his hands began to tear at his body, trying to get his clothes off. The man thought he saw flames, which weren't there. But it felt like it.
"Please!" he begged.
Theodore just smiled evilly, standing calmly, watching Karkaroff burn. Nott's head tilted to the side and a flick of his wand caused the burning to disappear but left Igor itching and shaking as though icy water was roaring over his body, making his burnt skin feel raw. Karkaroff screamed in pain and he quickly reduced his clothes to rags. And when his eyes saw his skin, it was red, sizzling with a horrid smell coming from it. A yell of pain escaped him and Theodore couldn't help but let out a shriek of laughter at seeing the man suffer.
He undid the spell and Karkaroff fell to the floor howling in pain. Nott walked slowly and calmly around Karkaroff with a wicked smile on his face.
"For Merlin's sake! I-I..." sobbed the older man.
Theo's hand moved and silenced his victim. Igor shivered and whimpered like a baby. Nott's mind then thought it would be rather rude of him to torture and then kill Karkaroff without letting him know which Death Eater was responsible for such a work of art. The black dragon-hide glove slowly reached for the white Death Eater mask and removed it, revealing Theodore Nott, the scar starting on the left of his nose to his mouth and the cold evil grin. "Well, Karkaroff. It seems that a weak child actually found you," he said tauntingly with a voice full of madness. This man had told him that he was just a weak child – would always say it, whenever he visited Abelard Nott.
Igor's eyes widened at recognizing the son of Abelard. "Tedd-"
Theodore hissed, baring his white teeth. "Don't call me that!" he yelled and kneeled in front of Karkaroff. His hand wrapped around the man's neck. "I hate being called Teddy, you worthless man." Igor was too skinny, too frail and too weak so he couldn't defend himself. "Fight, you old man!" Theodore said, causing Igor to let out choked pleas.
But Karkararoff was too old. Theodore sneered and took out the dagger he had received from his father and without pausing he began to stab Igor Karkaroff, not even wincing when the blood splattered his face, not stopping to hear Igor's agonized screams and feeble attempts to stop him. Theodore's mind was lost now; he was slowly losing himself. He was honoring his Lord. And this would help him become the best Death Eater and then he would have Luna back at his side. Short breaths escaped his mouth, his face was flushed and his eyes had a certain lunatic gleam that made him look like his father. For a moment he stopped and looked down. "How beautiful."
The color red was everywhere and it reminded him of Luna's lips, of his Lords eyes. His bony fingers touched the murky blood that poured from Igor's cuts, then he held his soiled hand in front of his face. He loved red – he could get lost in it, bathe himself in it. He thought of Luna's kisses and his Lord's eyes shining pride and acceptance down on him.
"Theo…Theodore…ple…" Karkaroff was interrupted by his own scream as a piece of his foot was chopped away.
Theodore's face was flushed. A cold smile spread on his face and his green eyes blazed as he chopped another piece of the foot. Igor tried to move, to stand up, to put space between him and Theodore but it was no use. Nott was young and strong and filled with adrenaline. He kept on talking – no, it was more like rambling about "Lune" and the Dark Lord, how he – argh, Igor couldn't pay attention as the pain was too much. Theodore was now working on Karkaroff's other foot.
"How dare you even betray the Lord? He trusted you!" Theodore shouted madly as his blow came into contact with a bone. He smiled at Igor's yell.
Blood now covered both Theodore and Karkaroff. Igor was still screaming and whimpering.
"Shut it! Can't you for one second be quiet!" Theodore yelled, his bloody hands going to his hair and messing it up further, streaking it with Karkaroff's blood. And without a second thought, his dagger slit Igor's throat. Blood streamed down his face. Theodore didn't stop.
In just a few minutes, he chopped Igor Karkaroff into tiny pieces except for his head. Taking his time, Nott turned Karkaroff's chopped body parts into raw red meat, using a spell of his own design. With his dragon-hide gloves that were now red, he arranged the pieces of raw meat into the figure of the Dark Mark. Going to the head of Igor, he sat down and with his own bloodied dagger and began to draw the Dark Mark on Igor's forehead. After he was done, he stood up and smiled, admiring his piece of art. "Perfect."
He had done it all for his dear Lord. When he went outside the shack, he looked up at the grey sky, his wand rising. In a murmur of veneration he said, "Morsmordre."
A dark spark came from the tip of his wand and a wicked grin escaped him as he saw the beautiful Dark Mark in the sky. This was for his Lord, a sacrifice of pure love and honor just for him.
AN *sigh* I know it's not that good. I think it's horrible. Please leave a review on your thoughts.
