I'd Do Anything
Chapter One: Prologue (Edited 6/20/08)
"Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill."
William Shakespeare, Macbeth Act III, ii
"Pick a card, any card," an attractive brunette purred at Matt Britton while spreading out a deck of cards face down in front of him.
Matt gulped.
He knew what lay beneath the cards, and quite frankly, he was nervous. Never before in his life had he done something that would greatly affect his future as much as this would.
In fact, Matt had never done anything that would make a name for him before, like this could.
He clasped his sweaty left palm onto the creamy white hand of his girlfriend Whitney. His dark auburn eyes glanced over to her pale blue ones. She nodded slightly, confirming that this was what she wanted to do.
Slowly he reached out to pick up the card that would determine whether or not he and Whitney would be initiated into the group his father saw it vital for him to join if he ever wanted to succeed in life in this day of age.
Mr. Britton was the head banker at the National Bank of the Netherlands, so he had a keen sense of what it took to be successful. Seeing as he was from a lower-class farming family and had risen to become one of the most powerful men in Europe in a matter of years after the Second World War caused Matt to feel inferior.
However, by joining this group of high-society types that discussed the happenings and the future of Western Europe, Matt felt his Dad would be proud of him for once.
Beneath the card was the task that they would be required to fulfill in order to become members.
Matt was beginning to hope that their task would take place outside of the stuffy sitting room at the Hotel de Bilderberg. The room they were currently residing in had begun to fill with the foul stench of the cigarettes and cigars, which the twenty or so members were smoking. With unnerving intensity, they watched the couple as they worked to become one of them.
He could tell Whitney wanted to get some fresh air also by the way her nose crinkled with distaste. Matt's hand flipped over a card that was a little bit to right of the middle and he read out loud what was written on the front.
"Go into Room 815 and bring back an artifact from the room to prove that you had been there."
The throb of members that had surrounded Matt and Whitney erupted into raucous chatter. Matt's ears could pick up a few words of all of the conversations that were taking place around him, but only one word stood out to him. 'Ominous'.
But Matt could've cared less.
The task sounded easy enough, and all he was worried about was Whitney. She had heard the conversations too, and was trembling at the mere thought of entering the dreaded room. She played with her straight blonde locks, which had always been a nervous trait of hers.
Yet, her need to leave the horrendous smelling room caused a surge of courage to run through her veins, seeing as she pulled at Matt's large hand and dragged him out of the sitting room.
Their joined hands separated as they came upon the door of Room 815. When she was about a few feet from the entrance, Whitney stopped dead in her tracks. Her feet refused to move an inch for all of her muscles had fastened together and her knees buckled as a result.
Matt could sense the terror radiating from her, so he cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him in the eye.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her.
"Y-y-yes, I d-dd-do." Whitney muttered with her eyes wide with fear.
Matt walked so that his body was blocking her vision of the door. He gave her a chaste kiss that made her lips tingle with warmth.
"You'll be fine," he reassured her, "I'll be right beside the entire way."
The tension that had been quickly building inside of Whitney evaporated immediately. Her sullen face turned into a full fledged smile as her eyes met his before he dashed into the room with her following after.
Inside of room 815 stood two men, waiting like lions to pounce on their prey, covered by the darkness of the lightless room. The shorter of the two was closer to the door, his wand grasped in his sweaty palm.
He glanced at his companion, a taller and much darker man. His throat instantly became dry at the piercing stare of his could-be master.
He had been promised an offer could not refuse if he were to complete the assignment; to dispose of two muggles. The reward was a seemingly honorable spot in the Knights of Walpurgis.
"Are you prepared?" Voldemort's icy tone drawled out.
Claec Azarola responded with a curt nod before focusing his gaze upon the doorway. He raised his wand as the door creaked open and aimed it towards the first being that entered and rung out, "Avada Kedavra!"
A blinding green light emitted from Claec's wand and hit the masculine looking figure squarely at where his heart would be.
The figure crumbled over onto the wooden floor as if its body were one of those muggle contraptions known as a slinky.
Another figure darted to where the deceased one laid and screeched out an ear piercing cry, "Matt! Matt! Are you alright?!"
'Kill the girl now.' Voldemort ordered Claec.
He complied and repeated the killing curse, sending her to fall on top of 'Matt'. Voldemort smirked darkly at Claec as he slowly toward him.
"Well, Claec, I must say that I am surprised. You have proved yourself worthy of being my servant by not only completing your assignment but also by leaving your family so your powers can be of use to me whenever I need them."
Claec didn't respond. He only hung his head, submitting his gratitude to his leader. This made Voldemort's smirk grow, knowing that he now had one of the wizarding world's most powerful Aurors in his grasp.
The next day at hogwarts Albus Dumbledore was dozing in his newly appointed office when he heard the sound of someone entering. He sat up straight, an instinct of his, and he gave a small smile to the witch who was now in his presence.
"Ah, Minerva! To what do I owe the pleasure of you being here?" He asked whilst his vivid blue eyes twinkled.
Minerva McGonagall, the new Transfiguration teacher he hired to replace him, gave him a desperate look and placed on his desk, quite forcefully, two newspapers; One was the Daily Prophet while the other was the Guardian.
Albus glanced down at the articles, and both were eventually related to the disappearance of Claec Azarola and the death of two muggles at the Hotel de Bilderberg.
"Professor, I-"
Albus halted Minerva before she could speak another word by raising his palm. "Minerva, you are no longer my pupil, so I expect you to address me as Albus."
Flabbergasted, Minerva stood silently for a few moments before continuing, "I have to ask you an important question. Are these two events tied to each other?"
Albus didn't answer at first. He instead shifted his gaze to his Phoenix, Fawkes. The bird let out a shrill cry that caused Minerva to jump.
"Yes, unfortunately they are," he stated simply leaving the discussion at that.
Minerva took the hint and left the Headmaster's office unwillingly.
Once the door had shut behind her Albus released a sigh and walked over to Fawkes' post. He placed his index finger under the phoenix's chin and scratched it causing him to caw happily.
"Fawkes, do you too sense the dense feeling of war upon us?" Albus muttered under his breathe. The bird cried out again which made the Headmaster sigh a second time.
Author's Notes: R & R Please!
This is what Death eaters were called at the very beginning after being formed.