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Taking the Mark

What a dark, dreary night. I wonder if all meetings will be like this. Why do we follow someone so... repulsive?

Ah, yes. The lure of power.

My eyes drift towards the creature inside the circle of followers. A circle of the damned. It – I doubt it can be called 'human' anymore –is in serious need of some Tanning Charms, and perhaps a visit to Saint Mungo's psychiatric ward. Would a Healer be able to give him his nose back? And really, those eyes give me the creeps. Is that going to be my Lord and Master?

The air around it seems to pulsate with his magic. Yes, power it has, but what has it done with it? Murdering some useless Muggles, destroying some small villages. It doesn't hold a candle to the Dark Lords and Ladies of the past. It is not yet a true Dark Lord, though it calls itself one. It is nothing but our puppeteer, the one who moves our pieces on the chessboard of life. I detest it.

But mother and father shoot me expectant looks from behind their white masks, as if they had heard my thoughts. Make us proud, son, they say wordlessly. Follow our footsteps.

Of course. As if I had ever wanted anything else than be free and live my own life. But my wishes are unimportant for them – for everyone. Another Slytherin going to the Dark Side. How am I to blame, when everyone I know and respect expects me to?

Oh, I'm not doing it for some greater purpose. I'm not even doing it because I believe in Voldemort's plans for the wizarding world. I'm not doing it out of loyalty to my parents – nor out of fear.

I'm going to take the Mark because it is expected of me.

Since I was born, I've never had a chance to live my life the way I want to. It may seem odd to others that I, who claims to want freedom, will take these chains of servitude willingly. Chained til death to a creature I despise.

But I never had another choice.

I know I'm walking a thin line, and I'm very close to falling. I know I will. I know it will hurt, taking the Mark, binding myself to this madman rambling and pacing in front of me.

But then again, every single thing in this damned world hurts. Even respect, that one bond between me and my parents, will soon damage my whole life and ruin any plans for the future I might have had. They want me to get the Dark Mark, just like them.

The stupidity of it all shocks even me. They should know first-hand the Dark Lord doesn't reward his followers. The only thing they get is pain, trouble, and more pain. And death, if the Aurors get them. Or, when they're unlucky – the story of my life – the Dark Lord has a bad mood and kills them.

I know this all, and still I'm here, still I'm waiting for the Mark myself, waiting until that creature beckons me and the other novices to step in the circle.

Why? It's expected of me. I've got no one to turn to. There's no one else I respect as much as my parents. Besides, who could help? Dumbledore? That old fool. He never gave anything about us Slytherins. He only cared for his precious little Gryffindors. Our Head of House tried to make up for the old fool's actions, but he is a Death Eater himself. So, again: who to turn to?

I wonder if I'll get caught and end up in Azkaban. Maybe it would be the best. I can't enjoy killing innocents, not like my father does. (Of course there are exceptions, like Potter. It's not that I wish any harm to the guy, I'm just saying I could happily sit by while someone curses him.) But torturing people I've never known or hated? People whose only crime is they aren't purebloods? You don't blame the cows for being born as cows, do you? Sure, they shouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts... But they are, and this little crusade of the Thing won't change it.

I speculate sometimes about what I would've become if I was born in one of those Gryffindor families. Then I probably wouldn't be standing here today. No, I would be another reckless goody-two-shoes, one of Dumbledore's heroic fighters against the upcoming Darkness.

Oh, spare me. Not a Gryffindor... I would rather be a Ravenclaw, with nothing to worry about except my grades and job.

However, even those perfect Gryffindors, wise Ravenclaws and sweet Huffelpufs can be tempted by the Dark Arts, and end up here, on this same spot I'm standing. Maybe it doesn't make any difference in which House you're Sorted. If you're destined to go evil, nothing can change that.

Evil. The word alone sends a chill through my spine. Yes, the Dark Arts are alluring. And once trapped in that charm, you're never free from it. It'll always stay inside you, black stains on a once pure white soul. Although, I doubt my soul has ever been clean.

My thoughts are interrupted by the unnerving, high-pitched voice of the creature. He calls for us to come closer.

Well, there's no turning back now.

I enter the circle, my black robes moving in the night breeze. The creature waits impatiently. He gestures me to come first.

Panic takes me. I don't want this, I don't want to belong to that monster, standing there with its wand outstretched! I don't want this!

My mind is screaming, but I hear myself saying the ceremonial words. The creature smiles, a repulsive, snake-like grin.

And then…

Pain.

Just like I expected.

Yes, I am insane. I know here are many fics with a Death Eater Initiation, but when I tried to start typing the next chapter of ToaLO, this came out. I guess it was in my head for a long time and finally wanted to see some daylight. Oh well… Like always, please don't mind my abysmal spelling… Oh, and reviews (flames and everything) are always appreciated.