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Georgina the Ant, this is for you. This is what happened to Catherine
after Bailey left her house in a mad rush. I hope you like it! It may be
confusing as I wrote this at 3 am. Still! enjoy! (
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I was a Death-Eater. Yes, be as shocked as you wish, and deny it all you want, but that won't change it.
I was young, stupid.well, maybe not stupid, but curious. I had heard all these things about the Dark Side and Voldemort, but I never really understood. Yes, they were evil, yes we were told about them, but nothing too deep. I was still curious. They were there and nothing else.
I joined two years after I had graduated from Hogwarts. I didn't tell anyone, but after all this time thinking, I took 'the plunge'. I purposely looked out for a meeting and when they caught me spying on them I told one man in a mask that I wanted to join. He stopped raising his wand and looked at me. He asked if I wanted too give up all connections to good and to hand my life into the control of the Dark Lord.
I said yes.
He told me to meet them later at another place, so I did. Then the Ceremony began.
I was robed in black and a half-mask was placed over my face. I was told to walk through the row of death eaters, chanting an ancient pact in a language I didn't know. It sounded like hissing. I was told to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet, and I did as I was told. Somehow my common sense had left, and I only just was doing, not thinking. I had to kiss the feet of my new master, and worship him like a god. After an Agony Curse I was lifted up and my arms were bared. A thick iron brand was heating in a bon-fire and it was shoved onto my forearm. The skin had been burned black, and I felt sick every time I ran my hand over it, feeling the valleys in my arm. That's why I always wore long-sleeve shirts then on.
After this ceremony I was bound to this pact. I had become one of them. I had even killed men.
My mask and robe I kept hidden from my family, and only until I had trusted Marcus enough to keep this I told him, and explained everything. He was shocked, and talked to his father for council. He had personally arrived at our house to talk with me and try and pull me away from what I had done. I didn't listen, I was too involved in my 'work' as I called it. He found it quite odd that I was involved in a society that despised Muggle- borns, though I was one myself. Maybe they hadn't found out yet, or maybe I was a test for them.
Still, I ground on for I don't know how long. Up to twenty years I was locked in the cage, and every time an attack was mentioned, I put on my face of 'Oh no, I hope they find out who did it' and continued to look shocked and worried. I could have made an excellent spy for the Death- eaters.but something kept me from doing it, and I still don't know what it was.
Then, as my only daughter was turning seven, it hit me. I was someone who would have killed families like this. I would have broken into their house in the night and with a quick flick of my wrist, the house would be in flames and all three people dead, already beginning to be consumed by the flames. It hit me with a shock I hadn't known for years, and that night I collapsed into bed sobbing for mercy and forgiveness. I had thought of directly cutting off all ties to them at the next meeting, but I knew by experience that anyone who would do such a thing would be killed on sight. I had to leave smoothly. How I did this? I had a plan. I skipped the next meeting and at the third I explained I was busy. Over the next eight years I slowly made fewer and fewer meetings with my compatriots.
On Margaret's fifteenth birthday I stopped going altogether and wrote a letter to the Ministry of magic, explaining what I had done and was in need of explaining and knowing that I had stopped being a Death-Eater. I had to join three meetings with the Ministry to convince them I was not going back and was never to harm any other human against Voldemort. I agreed, and told my father-in-law about it. He seemed happy for me, and relieved I was no longer to be in league with Voldemort. Still, I waited to tell my daughter until she was eighteen, and able to understand what I had been through. Marcus agreed on it and was estatic that I had stopped my ways. I sort of compared it to quitting smoking, only more deadly, but happy I had stopped. That's when the dreams began. They only surfaced in my mind for the longest time, about my family and myself being killed by the Death Eaters. I ignored them, but sharp pains on the scar appeared, and I learnt to some how get used to them, though I flinch and tense up every now and again when they come.
Then came that fateful day of that party. Oh, how stupid was I? I left the only file containing the remnants of my life as a Death Eater upstairs on my desk. Of all people, Margaret found it, and we hadn't told her yet. As she read, she explained, she couldn't believe it, and ran downstairs, asking me to explain. I had to and one of my closest friends was in denial. She was an auror, as was her husband, and thoughts of 'What If's?' ran through her mind. What if she had found me at a meeting? What if I was one to break into her house? What if? She continued, not believing it.
What was I to do? I got angry and showed her the Mark, it's ugly head etched into my arm. In a rage she stormed out of the house and left. Everyone else had gone, noticing that right now might not be the best time for a party. I was shocked, scared, knowing that if worse came to worse, something would happen, and someone would show up. I went to go for a walk, and put on my coat. I noticed a small envelope in my right pocket and threw it onto the front table, and closed the door behind me.
I walked for hours, following my feet to wherever they wanted, and ended up at the sea cliffs. They were beautiful, though the weather was miserable out there. The sea was just beginning to leave, the waves lapping at the feet of the rocks, their foamy caps leaving a film on the edges of the cliffs. I stood and sighed, wanting the pain and hurt of my life to leave and be washed away with the water, all fights and anxiety to disappear. The guilt to dissolve away to be blown in the wind. I turned around to see a taller man with slicked back hair standing behind me, looking out onto the ocean with me. He said hello, and asked why I hadn't returned to any of their meetings.
I was chilled to the bone. I knew that voice, and it filled me with dread. I hated that voice now, though I once followed it. It was Draco, the head of the Death Eaters. He had been the man I had asked to join, and the one to lead me through the ceremonies and meetings. He had shown me how to 'eat or be eaten' in this realm of the followers of evil. I adored him as a leader, rising to the ranks alongside him, of the highest Death Eaters. Then I had left. I never spoke to him since now, and I was scared. "What do you want?" I asked, not bothering to turn around.
"I wanted to know why you left, Catherine." He answered, walking up behind me. "Why you supposedly left. There is rumor travelling around that you've left for good. Have you, or were you fearing for your honor?"
He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I shuddered under it's touch. I could feel the ice-cold blood flowing through the veins of this ruler.
I was silent for a moment choosing my words carefully as I raised my left hand to move his, deliberately showing the wedding ring. "I, I have left, Draco, and I've no means to come back. Someone will take my place, and I suppose I should soon be forgotten."
The grip tightened on my shoulder for a moment, then his hand fell from my shoulder. He walked in front and turned to face me. "I see things have changed, Catherine. We have need of great leaders, and you are one of them. We need you to return, and you have yet to be forgotten. Many still remember you. And about the fact of your husband, " He said, walking behind me and nuzzling my neck, "Things can be changed. You know how much I know you, and things can be taken care of."
I cringed and tried to back away, but his arm was holding me too close. I felt nauseous enough to faint, needing the warm embrace of a loved one to the holding of a stranger.
I shook my head, taking hold of his arm and pushing it away. "You know I've needed you, Catherine," he whispered, pulling my closer,
"We could be the most powerful Death Eaters next to Voldemort himself. We could rule the world, you and I. I would be king, and you, " he said, nibbling my ear, "You would be my queen."
I nearly threw up then and there, forcing myself to move, to run. I wrenched myself away from his grip and jogged forward. I was scared, scared that he might come after me, but it transformed into anger. This..thing had tried to convince me with power and wealth and lust to join the Evil forces of the earth.
"No! Never!" I shouted, "As long as there is breath in this body you shall not force me to join you!"
Draco raised an eyebrow, and walked forward, nearing the edge of the cliffs, right next to the railing around the edge. "You have left for good, and I though I could give you a second chance." He said, his eyes flaring up with something, I couldn't tell what, "I thought you could change, but no. I gave you a chance, but you left it."
I was cornered now. Behind me was the railing, in front was Malfoy. His eyes narrowed and in one smooth action he kissed me, and it was odious (look up on Thesaurus). I could feel bile rising up my throat, burning that back of my tongue. He pulled away and grinned.
"You know you want to come back."
I spat in his face.
With a spasm of rage passing over his face, he yelled and shoved me over the railing.
All I knew was that I was falling, flying almost. The world was shrinking above me and the wind was rushing through my hair. I was falling, falling. Then it stopped. With a crack I hit the water, and I was tumbling through the waves, off the rocks, soon to be part of the film on the cliffs. I thought of what Marcus and Margaret would do without me. Then all light stopped. I had blacked out on the edge of the ocean, and no one would help me.
Possibly more to come? I dunno, wait and seeeeeee!
I was a Death-Eater. Yes, be as shocked as you wish, and deny it all you want, but that won't change it.
I was young, stupid.well, maybe not stupid, but curious. I had heard all these things about the Dark Side and Voldemort, but I never really understood. Yes, they were evil, yes we were told about them, but nothing too deep. I was still curious. They were there and nothing else.
I joined two years after I had graduated from Hogwarts. I didn't tell anyone, but after all this time thinking, I took 'the plunge'. I purposely looked out for a meeting and when they caught me spying on them I told one man in a mask that I wanted to join. He stopped raising his wand and looked at me. He asked if I wanted too give up all connections to good and to hand my life into the control of the Dark Lord.
I said yes.
He told me to meet them later at another place, so I did. Then the Ceremony began.
I was robed in black and a half-mask was placed over my face. I was told to walk through the row of death eaters, chanting an ancient pact in a language I didn't know. It sounded like hissing. I was told to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet, and I did as I was told. Somehow my common sense had left, and I only just was doing, not thinking. I had to kiss the feet of my new master, and worship him like a god. After an Agony Curse I was lifted up and my arms were bared. A thick iron brand was heating in a bon-fire and it was shoved onto my forearm. The skin had been burned black, and I felt sick every time I ran my hand over it, feeling the valleys in my arm. That's why I always wore long-sleeve shirts then on.
After this ceremony I was bound to this pact. I had become one of them. I had even killed men.
My mask and robe I kept hidden from my family, and only until I had trusted Marcus enough to keep this I told him, and explained everything. He was shocked, and talked to his father for council. He had personally arrived at our house to talk with me and try and pull me away from what I had done. I didn't listen, I was too involved in my 'work' as I called it. He found it quite odd that I was involved in a society that despised Muggle- borns, though I was one myself. Maybe they hadn't found out yet, or maybe I was a test for them.
Still, I ground on for I don't know how long. Up to twenty years I was locked in the cage, and every time an attack was mentioned, I put on my face of 'Oh no, I hope they find out who did it' and continued to look shocked and worried. I could have made an excellent spy for the Death- eaters.but something kept me from doing it, and I still don't know what it was.
Then, as my only daughter was turning seven, it hit me. I was someone who would have killed families like this. I would have broken into their house in the night and with a quick flick of my wrist, the house would be in flames and all three people dead, already beginning to be consumed by the flames. It hit me with a shock I hadn't known for years, and that night I collapsed into bed sobbing for mercy and forgiveness. I had thought of directly cutting off all ties to them at the next meeting, but I knew by experience that anyone who would do such a thing would be killed on sight. I had to leave smoothly. How I did this? I had a plan. I skipped the next meeting and at the third I explained I was busy. Over the next eight years I slowly made fewer and fewer meetings with my compatriots.
On Margaret's fifteenth birthday I stopped going altogether and wrote a letter to the Ministry of magic, explaining what I had done and was in need of explaining and knowing that I had stopped being a Death-Eater. I had to join three meetings with the Ministry to convince them I was not going back and was never to harm any other human against Voldemort. I agreed, and told my father-in-law about it. He seemed happy for me, and relieved I was no longer to be in league with Voldemort. Still, I waited to tell my daughter until she was eighteen, and able to understand what I had been through. Marcus agreed on it and was estatic that I had stopped my ways. I sort of compared it to quitting smoking, only more deadly, but happy I had stopped. That's when the dreams began. They only surfaced in my mind for the longest time, about my family and myself being killed by the Death Eaters. I ignored them, but sharp pains on the scar appeared, and I learnt to some how get used to them, though I flinch and tense up every now and again when they come.
Then came that fateful day of that party. Oh, how stupid was I? I left the only file containing the remnants of my life as a Death Eater upstairs on my desk. Of all people, Margaret found it, and we hadn't told her yet. As she read, she explained, she couldn't believe it, and ran downstairs, asking me to explain. I had to and one of my closest friends was in denial. She was an auror, as was her husband, and thoughts of 'What If's?' ran through her mind. What if she had found me at a meeting? What if I was one to break into her house? What if? She continued, not believing it.
What was I to do? I got angry and showed her the Mark, it's ugly head etched into my arm. In a rage she stormed out of the house and left. Everyone else had gone, noticing that right now might not be the best time for a party. I was shocked, scared, knowing that if worse came to worse, something would happen, and someone would show up. I went to go for a walk, and put on my coat. I noticed a small envelope in my right pocket and threw it onto the front table, and closed the door behind me.
I walked for hours, following my feet to wherever they wanted, and ended up at the sea cliffs. They were beautiful, though the weather was miserable out there. The sea was just beginning to leave, the waves lapping at the feet of the rocks, their foamy caps leaving a film on the edges of the cliffs. I stood and sighed, wanting the pain and hurt of my life to leave and be washed away with the water, all fights and anxiety to disappear. The guilt to dissolve away to be blown in the wind. I turned around to see a taller man with slicked back hair standing behind me, looking out onto the ocean with me. He said hello, and asked why I hadn't returned to any of their meetings.
I was chilled to the bone. I knew that voice, and it filled me with dread. I hated that voice now, though I once followed it. It was Draco, the head of the Death Eaters. He had been the man I had asked to join, and the one to lead me through the ceremonies and meetings. He had shown me how to 'eat or be eaten' in this realm of the followers of evil. I adored him as a leader, rising to the ranks alongside him, of the highest Death Eaters. Then I had left. I never spoke to him since now, and I was scared. "What do you want?" I asked, not bothering to turn around.
"I wanted to know why you left, Catherine." He answered, walking up behind me. "Why you supposedly left. There is rumor travelling around that you've left for good. Have you, or were you fearing for your honor?"
He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I shuddered under it's touch. I could feel the ice-cold blood flowing through the veins of this ruler.
I was silent for a moment choosing my words carefully as I raised my left hand to move his, deliberately showing the wedding ring. "I, I have left, Draco, and I've no means to come back. Someone will take my place, and I suppose I should soon be forgotten."
The grip tightened on my shoulder for a moment, then his hand fell from my shoulder. He walked in front and turned to face me. "I see things have changed, Catherine. We have need of great leaders, and you are one of them. We need you to return, and you have yet to be forgotten. Many still remember you. And about the fact of your husband, " He said, walking behind me and nuzzling my neck, "Things can be changed. You know how much I know you, and things can be taken care of."
I cringed and tried to back away, but his arm was holding me too close. I felt nauseous enough to faint, needing the warm embrace of a loved one to the holding of a stranger.
I shook my head, taking hold of his arm and pushing it away. "You know I've needed you, Catherine," he whispered, pulling my closer,
"We could be the most powerful Death Eaters next to Voldemort himself. We could rule the world, you and I. I would be king, and you, " he said, nibbling my ear, "You would be my queen."
I nearly threw up then and there, forcing myself to move, to run. I wrenched myself away from his grip and jogged forward. I was scared, scared that he might come after me, but it transformed into anger. This..thing had tried to convince me with power and wealth and lust to join the Evil forces of the earth.
"No! Never!" I shouted, "As long as there is breath in this body you shall not force me to join you!"
Draco raised an eyebrow, and walked forward, nearing the edge of the cliffs, right next to the railing around the edge. "You have left for good, and I though I could give you a second chance." He said, his eyes flaring up with something, I couldn't tell what, "I thought you could change, but no. I gave you a chance, but you left it."
I was cornered now. Behind me was the railing, in front was Malfoy. His eyes narrowed and in one smooth action he kissed me, and it was odious (look up on Thesaurus). I could feel bile rising up my throat, burning that back of my tongue. He pulled away and grinned.
"You know you want to come back."
I spat in his face.
With a spasm of rage passing over his face, he yelled and shoved me over the railing.
All I knew was that I was falling, flying almost. The world was shrinking above me and the wind was rushing through my hair. I was falling, falling. Then it stopped. With a crack I hit the water, and I was tumbling through the waves, off the rocks, soon to be part of the film on the cliffs. I thought of what Marcus and Margaret would do without me. Then all light stopped. I had blacked out on the edge of the ocean, and no one would help me.
Possibly more to come? I dunno, wait and seeeeeee!