Chapter 26

Draco felt his skin crinkle up in goose flesh at the Dark Lord's summons. He lifted his eyes to the snake-like countenance and stepped purposefully toward him. He was careful to continue emitting respectful and almost worshipful thoughts for Lord Voldemort to read at will.

When he was only a few feet before the Dark Lord, he inclined his head in a bow and let his eyes drop once again. For some time Voldemort said nothing. Then…

"You may behold me," he rasped as though bestowing a great gift on a favorite protégé.

Draco again raised his eyes to behold the very visage of evil before him. He was so close now that he could hear Voldemort breathing…see the vertical snake-like slits in the glittering red eyes. He felt revulsion creep up on him. This was a defining moment. If ever his Occlumency lessons were going to save him, it would be now.

"My Lord," Draco said deprecatingly.

At this, Voldemort shifted forward slightly on his throne. The slitted eyes regarded him, deeply probing, as though he was trying to discern into Draco's very soul. Draco worked to remain calm, and continued to create pleasing images, never removing his eyes from those of Voldemort. The Dark Lord's breathing caught in his throat, as he furrowed his brow with seeming concentration. Then, slowly, what could only be described as a look of complete satisfaction transformed his features. He smiled widely, and chuckled to himself. Draco remained still, keeping his guard up. The Dark Lord sat back, resting his hands on the arms of his throne, with regal bearing.

"Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, why have you come into my presence?" he said in a coldly officious tone.

Snape had schooled him in the proper response to this, the Dark Lord's traditional first question of any aspiring new recruit to his ranks.

"To offer my Lord my humble services, such as they are," Draco replied respectfully, with another slight bow.

"Will you do all that I ask of you, no matter the cost to you…even if following my command should result in your death?"

Voldemort's gaze was intense again. He seemed determined to detect the slightest disloyalty.

Draco put on a look of almost fanatical devotion. He stared Lord Voldemort directly in his eyes.

"It will be my greatest honor to die in your service, my Lord." he replied almost worshipfully

But, he did not bow as he made this statement. He wanted the Dark Lord to see the look in his eyes. And once again the self-proclaimed Lord seemed satisfied.

The official dialogue of the ceremony was over for now. But, Draco did not relax. He was looking for a lead-in to tell Lord Voldemort of his "plans" involving Hermione and Harry Potter. He did not have to wait long.

"I understand," Voldemort said with a wave of his hand to someone off to his right, "that you have all ready been at work on my behalf."

That someone scurried forward and bowing deeply, handed Voldemort an ornate silver goblet, from which he sipped languorously, while still keeping his eyes on Draco. Draco recognized the goblet bearer as Peter Pettigrew.

Voldemort's tone was now less formal, but it was still cold and guarded. He was not asking a question; though it was clear he wanted an answer. He was, in greater part, letting Draco know that he had been watching him through his many known and unknown tactics…More mind games.

Draco continued to play the game, making like he was gratified that the Dark Lord had taken notice of his activities.

"Yes, my Lord," he said with a sober smile. "I have been working on developing a relationship with Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's closest friends and confidants."

"I know who Ms. Granger is," the Dark Lord said with obvious displeasure.

Draco could not tell if Voldemort was displeased because he thought Draco was telling him his business, or because he hated Hermione so very much. He decided to thoroughly cover his bases.

"Of course, my Lord. Forgive me, I did not mean to imply…"

"Yes! Yes!" Lord Voldemort rasped, with a dismissive wave of his hand, his face relaxing again. "But, I wish to hear your plans, Draco…Something about getting to Harry Potter through Ms. Granger?"

Draco pretended to glow with pleasure at the Dark Lord's interest.

"Yes, my Lord. It is my plan to pretend to turn from my "dark ways" to gain Granger's full confidence," he expounded gleefully. "Eventually, I hope to win a chance to get close to Potter."

Draco made sure to spit out Harry's name venomously.

"Perhaps I will eventually get to Dumbledore…"

"Now, now Draco!" the Dark Lord intoned, as though talking to an overeager child. "You get ahead of yourself!"

But, Draco could see the cruel red eyes glitter. He had captured Voldemort's imagination. He spoke no more, but waited on the Dark Lord's pleasure.

"Yes…" Voldemort almost hissed, as he ruminated on the possibilities before him.

A long hand reached up and stroked his chin thoughtfully. The evil in his eyes had not been so undisguised during Draco's interview with him as it was now. Draco fought to keep up the façade of devoted servant to this repulsively depraved creature. He threw up images in contradiction to his true feelings at a fast and furious pace.

Then the Dark Lord broke from his reverie.

"Lucius," he said with obvious pleasure.

Lucius swept up beside Draco, and Voldemort bestowed on him a seemingly beneficent gaze.

"Yes, my Lord," he said reverently, affecting a courtly bow.

"Your son is a credit to you. You are to be commended for bringing him into our little fold," he said, waving Lucius away again.

"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius replied, his eyes shining as he backed away with another bow.

Lord Voldemort pulled himself up to a surprising height in his throne. His countenance hardened, and his eyes became terrible as he leveled Draco with them.

"I am intrigued by your little experiment Draco," he said sternly. "So, I will let you continue with it…for now," he tagged on menacingly. "But, I shall expect regular reports on your progress," he said leaning forward and lifting an admonitory finger at Draco. "And I will expect you to work closely with Severus Snape."

Voldemort appeared to think a moment, an evil grin pulling at his features.

"Yes…I think you will do quite well with the help of my faithful servant, Severus," he whispered, as if to himself.

Then he motioned to Snape, who came forward immediately.

"You will, I trust, be very sure to guide Draco with the utmost of care?" he directed at Snape.

"Yes, my Lord, with pleasure," Snape answered smoothly.

Snape's eyes glittered malevolently. So much so, that if Draco had not known better he would have been convinced that Snape's loyalties lay squarely in the Dark Lord's camp.

Voldemort waved Severus Snape away, and then locked eyes with Draco again.

"I hope you realize, young man, what a singular opportunity I am giving you," he stared at Draco for a moment as if to give his words more emphasis.

Draco made to answer, but Lord Voldemort lifted his hand again to silence him.

"You will, of course, be handsomely rewarded should you procure the results I am looking to see," he said, almost nonchalantly.

Draco nodded slowly.

"But, if you fail…" Voldemort continued in a conversational tone.

Then, he leaned forward, his eyes blazing, and his movements smooth and calculated.

"You will leave me no choice, but to…" he paused for emphasis, "punish you for your insolence in asking for an assignment you were unable to carry out." He finished in a voice so cold, so frightening, that Draco wanted to run as far and as fast as he could.

He held his ground, still nodding slowly, as if in full agreement with the Dark Lord's judgment.

"I will not fail you, my Lord," Draco said, fighting to keep his voice even.

The Dark Lord sat back again.

"Good," he said, as if he hadn't just threatened Draco with all but death itself.

"Now that we understand each other, I believe we should make it all official."

He gave Draco another horrific smile.

Then, he turned to Peter Pettigrew, a.k.a. Wormtail, who still stood off to the right, watching the scene with undisguised morbid curiosity…his eyes darting about, his mouth twisted into a malicious grin.

"Wormtail, I believe you will be assisting me in administering the Mark to young Draco, here," Voldemort said, eyeing his servant as though he were dirt under his shoe.

Wormtail moved as fast as his fat, little legs could carry him, as he continually ducked his head up and down, in what he obviously thought was proper and pleasing subservience. The display only caused the Dark Lord to sneer at him all the more.

"Stop bobbing up and down like a top, and prepare the necessary potions!" Lord Voldemort said in a terrible voice.

Wormtail looked as if his eyes would pop out of his head, and he was shaking so hard it seemed as if he would surely drop the small glass, jewel tone red flask he pulled from his robes and shatter it into a million pieces.

Draco watched as he stumbled over to one of the silver bowls beside the throne, and dropped a few drops of the potion from his flask into it. Then, he did the same with the other silver bowl. Hissing steam rose from the bowls, filling the air for a moment with an acrid, burning smell. It was almost nauseating.

There was a murmuring rising up from the crowd of Death Eaters, as if they were chanting some ancient evil spell. Then, Lord Voldemort stood from his throne and stepped down between the bowls. He raised his hands, and let his gaze fall on Draco once more.

"Come forward, Draco Malfoy, and receive my Mark, as a sign of your devoted service to me, your Lord and Master!" he intoned almost ecstatically.

Draco, setting his jaw against the fear that threatened to overwhelm him, arranged his face in as calm a mask as possible, and walked with firm, slow steps to where the Dark Lord stood. The chanting of the Death Eaters behind the scene intensified.

Voldemort extracted his wand from inside his robes, and nodded to Wormtail who lifted the silver bowl on the Dark Lord's right and held it before him. Slowly he waved his wand circuitously over the potion, and, in a low monotone, began speaking a spell of such evil magnitude that Draco could feel the dark magic surrounding him. His breathing became more labored, as he then watched the Dark Lord dip his wand into the gently bubbling potion and swirl it slowly, while continuing the necessary incantations.

After another moment, Lord Voldemort lifted his wand out of the potion, and looked up.

"Lucius, I will need your assistance now," he said softly.

And Lucius appeared beside Draco, looking supremely joyful.

"Take Draco's left arm and hold it steady," he said slowly.

Draco lifted his arm, his eyes scrutinizing Voldemort, a forced small smile of anticipation on his lips. His father gripped his arm at the wrist and just below the elbow, but said nothing. He did not even look at his son. He appeared to be loathe to break his gaze from his Master. The chanting of the Death Eaters was continuous, remaining at a steady, low hum.

Lord Voldemort lightly dangled the tip of his wand over Draco's forearm before he spoke again, gazing into Draco's eyes piercingly.

"Draco Malfoy," he intoned in his cold, gravelly voice. "I place this, my most glorious Mark upon you, thus binding you to me forever. You are, henceforth, first and foremost my servant. No other concern of yours shall take precedence over my will for you. This means that I may summon you to my side at any time, day or night, to do all I require. You are bound, under penalty of death, to die in my service if circumstances so demand it. Every time you feel its burn, let it remind you of my great and terrible power, and that it is far more desirable to be for me rather than against me."

With that he began rubbing the tip of his wand over Draco's bare forearm, with slow purposeful strokes, leaving brackish streaks of potion wherever his wand made contact with skin. As the green and black snake and skull Mark began to appear, a terrible burning also began to permeate the delicate flesh, and grew in intensity until Draco felt that his arm was on fire.

It took all his strength to keep from crying out. He permitted himself only a slight grimace. The Dark Lord was watching, and he would not appreciate weakness of any kind.

Finally, Voldemort lifted his wand away, and the burning subsided just a very little. But, other effects had begun to take hold on Draco's body and mind. He felt lightheaded and weak, almost as though he might faint. As he struggled to remain conscious, he was vaguely aware that his father was still holding his left arm and someone had taken his right arm as well. He could not help being grateful for the supplemental physical support, though he did his best not to lean to heavily upon it.

He was vaguely aware of Wormtail holding up the second bowl, and Voldemort repeating the swirling of his wand tip in the potion, and his muttering of spells as he did so. Draco did not see Lord Voldemort move his wand over his arm. And now, as Voldemort spoke again, his cold voice seemed so far away that it was hard to distinguish it from the continued low chanting of the Death Eaters. He worked to apply himself to Voldemort's speech.

"And now, I seal the Mark indelibly to you, Draco Malfoy, that it should never be removed. Let its permanence remind you that you have given all you are, even your very soul, to me, Lord Voldemort, your Lord and Master, forever!"

He felt the wand tip upon his arm once more, along with the almost unbearable burning. Draco fought to keep his knees from buckling under him. But, he still did not cry out.

He did not see or feel Voldemort take his wand away, for the burning did not lesson. And, he did not see Wormtail pour a splash of each potion into a goblet and swirl it before handing it to the Dark Lord.

His next realization was of the goblet being put to his lips, and Professor Snape's voice commanding him to drink. He did so, only because he was too weak to protest. For by now his mind was not entirely his own due to the excruciating pain, and other mind altering effects of the potion.

After he had drunk the potion he heard his father speaking through the haze.

"It is done, Draco!" he said with maniacal joy. "My son! My son! How long I have waited…"

Then, Snape's voice came very softly.

"Congratulations, Draco."

So, that is who was holding me on the right, he thought confusedly.

There was some shuffling around, as Draco felt his father release him, and his whole weight being shifted to Snape.

"I'll take him now, Lucius. And, I'll keep you informed as to his recovery."

Then, he found himself half stumbling, as Snape half dragged him away.

By this time, the potion he had ingested, causing him terrible cramps in his stomach, and his body felt filled with the fiery burning. He let a groan escape his lips.

"It burns!" he gasped, hoping Snape had gotten him far enough away from Voldemort and his father that they could not hear him giving in to the pain.

"I know," Snape said not unkindly. "A little farther and I will give you the potion I've prepared to help counteract at least the physical effects."

It seemed like forever before Snape stopped again.

"Here," Snape said, his voice tight with tension. "Try to lean against this tree."

Draco used what was left to him of strength to hold himself against the tree. He kept his eyes closed against the dizziness and pain, as Snape administered the counter active potion. He drank it greedily, even though on first swallow he realized it tasted something like swamp water… He would do anything to stop this horrible pain!

"Is it easing you?" Snape asked almost solicitously.

Draco felt the potion slipping into his burning stomach. It gave a cooling effect, as though it were water slaking a fire.

"Yes," Draco managed hoarsely.

"Good," Snape said, taking Draco up again. "We will disapparate from here, though, unfortunately we will have to target the Black Forest as before." he finished grimly.

Draco felt his heart drop. He did not know if he could stand the journey through the Black Forest in this condition, but he realized he had no choice. He kept his mind focused Professor Dumbledore's promised help…and on seeing Hermione again.