I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise, even though I may want to.

1,101 words.

Warning - Cheating


"The mark. Something that inspires fear in the hearts of others. I need someone to design one as I do not have the time." Lord Voldemort and his followers were having a meeting, Voldemort ordering what needed to be done. They had disscussed everything and hit what everyone had been trying to delay. The talk about the mark.

"I need someone to design the mark". No – one volunteered.

"No – One? Are you sure?" He stood up and started walking around the table, making everyone jittery.

"Dolohov, you can do it," he said. Everyone instantly looked relieved.

"Me, my Lord, are you sure? I am one of your most devoted followers."

"I am sure. I can remember you as being . . . . quite the artist."

Dolohov didn't push further.

"Meeting dismissed", Voldemort said, and everyone left.


Dolohov's House later that night

"No, no, no, no, no." He had drawn ten images, and none of them were right.

A broken heart with a snake coming out. No.

A sword with 'Avada Kedavra' on a ribbon wrapped around it. No.

Ladder with Death eater names on each rung. No. That would be disastrous if they ever got captured.

A lance with Knights of Walpurgis stamped in. No.

Dolohov was stressed, his head felt like it was bursting and his wife was late home. The skull – like head of Lord Voldemort kept popping into his head, distracting him from his work.

"Wait, a skull. That should be included in the mark". He drew on, into the morning, disturbed by no – one.


8 A.M. at the Dolohov household

Dolohov was woken up rudely by Snape pushing him off his chair that he had been sitting on last night.

"Waddaya want?" He asked sleepily from the floor.

"Morsmordre just turned up on my doorstep, drunk. I just thought you should know," Snape said.

"Bring her here."

"I can't, she's passed out on my couch."

"Damn." He muttered and stood up, whacking his head on the underside of his desk. Snape held out his arm, Dolohov grabbed it and they apparated.


At the same time at Malfoy Manor

"My Lord, are you sure that trusting him with designing? He can be quite . . . . irresponsible. Especially with his unfaithful wife." Abraxas Malfoy asked the Dark Lord.

"If you doubt him, perhaps you should design one, Abraxas. I am sure you won't be bad." The dark Lords red eyes glinted threateningly.

"Of course my Lord. I shall not fail you."

He walked out of the ball room.

With a 'POP' Dolohov and Snape apparated to Snape's house. He led him through the front door and into his poorly lit dark living room, where Dolohov's wife was passed out on his couch.

"Bye, Severus." Dolohov grabbed his wife and picked her up and apparated.

"Rude", Severus muttered.


A week later . . . .

Dolohov was stressed. There was one more day until the next meeting. Snape had turned up with Morsmordre twice. Both times she was drunk. The floor of his study was littered with screwed up pieces of paper, his hair was wild and he reeked. Every night he fell asleep at his desk, and every morning he woke up to continue on with his job. He was barely eating or drinking.


Same time at Malfoy Manor

"I don't know why I ever challenged the Dark Lord about his decision. This is so hard". No-one had ever heard a Malfoy ever say that aloud without a wand pressed against their neck. Abraxas put his head in his hands and sighed.

His wife walked into the room. "It'll be all right Ab, it'll be alright."


The Night of the Meeting

Dolohov and Abraxas were at their respective homes. Both had a few designs, though both Abraxas and Dolohov were panicking slightly, for they didn't think they were any good.

Another reason for Dolohov's stress was that Morsmordre was gone, he was hungry and he was tired.

Lucius was putting on his calm and collected mask. He took a deep breath before walking out of his study

Dolohov collected his best designs, crossed his fingers and apparated.


At the Manor

'Crap.' Dolohov thought. It was a formal event and he had forgotten. He turned around to apparate, but came face-to-face with his wife, Morsmordre, graphically making out with Marcus Goyle Snr. Dolohov grabbed out his wand and, before he could think about his action or cause and effect, he yelled out 'MORSMORDRE!' A huge swirl of smoke flew out of his wand, attracting the attention of the people who hadn't already noticed the commotion.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed angrily at Morsmordre, just as the smoke formed its final form above his head.

Morsmordre thumped to the ground dead. Marcus soon followed.

"Excellent work Dolohov. Good job." Lord Voldemort walked over to Dolohov, who was shaking, the adrenaline worn off.

"Stop shaking," Voldemort commanded. Dolohov stopped, paralysed with fear that the Dark Lord would be angry.

Voldemort looked closely at Dolohov, who felt a strange sensation in his mind, before turning round, opening his arms and yelling, "Death Eaters! We have a mark." He yelled.

"Give your arm Crabbe." He commanded. Crabbe shuffled forwards and held out his left arm. The Dark Lord flicked up Crabbe's sleeve with his wand. He pointed his wand at Crabbe's arm and flicked it, almost casually. Crabbe howled in pain, clutching his arm. A black skull, just like the one in the fading smoke, was darkening on his forearm. A snake wound its way out of his mouth into an eight, symbolising infinity and the defeat of death. Voldemort grinned.

"Only those who deserve it shall get my mark. Those who get it and do not use it well . . . they, you know." This statement made several pull faces.

"Abraxas," he said quietly. "Come here."

Abraxas walked forwards, his mask barely covering his fear. Like last time, Voldemort waved his wand, causing Abraxas pain beyond anything he had ever experienced, more painful than the cruciatus curse, more painful when his heart was broken by the girl he truly loved. He sucked in his cheeks, rolling around on the floor silently until the pain lessened. He stood up and walked towards the Dark Lord, bowing in front of him. He was soon joined by many others, a few sobbing and one screaming hysterically. A few Avada Kedavra's later, Voldemort stood in front of them.

"Let us go now, and show that old fool Dumbledore just what we can do."

They all apparated, keen to show the world their new marks.


Written for The Halloween Event on The Golden Snitch.

School - Uagadou

House - Tawaret

Points Earned - 20

Prompt - Skeleton