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"Welcome to the Death Eaters."
The unfortunate Death Eater who was forced to evaluate new recruits looked at the two standing in front of him and internally grimaced. The one on his left looked pretty old to be just joining up, with an obvious wig and nose that either must have been glamoured on or the result of plastic surgery because it didn't match the rest of him at all. But on the plus side, he did have red eyes and very pale skin, which really amped up the evil and spooky look.
The recruit on his right was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Probably still in Hogwarts or had just graduated. Brown hair, blue eyes, glasses, and quite peculiarly, a baseball cap. Probably an ego the size of the sun, too, if the other recent recruits his age were any indication.
"Before we can admit you into the Death Eaters, you must undergo some skill evaluations and agree to abide by a few conditions or you will have your memories wiped. Any questions?"
The older recruit simply glared back at the Death Eater in charge while the younger recruit shuffled nervously. Another internal groan came from the evaluator. He'd already had to obliviate three kids this year who had gotten cold feet, and he didn't want to make a habit of it.
"Good," the evaluator spoke after a couple more seconds of silence. "Now, my name is Steve, and I will be leading you through this initial process. Could I get your names before we get started?"
The older recruit went first. "Thomas Anagram."
Steve nodded. "Nice to meet you, Tom. And you?"
Thomas glared back at Steve. "It's Thomas. Not Tom."
Steve shrugged. "Duly noted. Now, I didn't catch your counterpart's name?"
"Harold Scarhead," the younger recruit replied.
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Intimidating name. I like it. Now before we get to the evaluations, I am required to go over our organizational background, goals, and mission statement. Once again, if you find yourself unable to follow the objectives outlined, you will be obliviated and thrown out. Any questions?"
The younger recruit raised his hand. 'Oh great,' Steve thought. 'He really is in Hogwarts, isn't he?'
"Yes?" Steve sighed.
"Um, so we do all of this stuff first, then we become Death Eaters and get the Dark Mark?" the boy asked nervously.
Steve fought the urge to sigh. Every kid around his age had asked the same question. "Yes, that's right," Steve replied.
The young recruit nodded. "Thank you."
"Any other questions?" Steve asked. Finding none, he moved on.
"Good. Now, the Death Eaters were formed in the 1950s as a group dedicated to helping the up-and-coming Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort in his noble quest to promote pure-blood supremacy throughout the universe. The 50s were a period of…"
Harry tuned Steve out almost immediately. This was an absolutely insane plan, but could give him so much information if he was successful. A look into the everyday operations of Death Eaters was exactly what he needed to find out their biggest strengths and weaknesses. Of course, he hadn't expected an evaluation immediately after 'joining,' but it did make sense. Expecting him to deal with potions right off the bat would be disastrous, after all.
"…and that brings us to today. As you can see, our organization has a very rich history spanning multiple generations, which you will soon join. That brings us to our mission statement. 'To promote and spread the influence of the Dark Lord and pure-blood supremacy throughout the world.' Now is your opportunity to contribute to this glorious cause and make a difference! Any questions?"
The older recruit started clapping slowly, a sinister grin on his face. "Well done, well done. I would expect you to soon be rewarded for your excellent and loyal service to the cause."
Steve, not sure how to handle that statement, shifted awkwardly. "Why, uh, thank you sir! Um, to proceed, I just need you both to acknowledge that you have heard and understand the expectations of your service in the Death Eaters."
Two head nodded back at him.
"Good. Now, you will be graded on a set of tests we will set before you to determine your starting level in the Death Eaters, as well as evaluated for other skilled jobs that might be required. A panel of three independent Death Eaters will observe the tests and provide feedback on your performances. And here they are now. Mr. Anagram and Mr. Scarhead, would you please step forward to face your first test?"
Red eyes gleamed in anticipation. "It would be my pleasure."
The other recruit looked nervous. "Um, sure."
"Excellent," Steve replied, mentally preparing to send the younger recruit to kitchen duty. "Please come this way. And here is your first test. Begin."
Thomas and Harold were each hit by a Cruciatus Curse. Thomas reacted quickly, pulling out his wand and firing a curse back. "Crucio."
One of the three judges was hit by the curse and started writhing on the ground in pain, instantly cutting off the spell that had been directed at Thomas.
"Stop! Stop! STOP!" yelled Steve. Thomas's Cruciatus and the one that had been on Harold were cut off.
"I have never seen a recruit be so brash as to attack a judge during the first test like that!" Steve thundered. "You can be sure you'll get points taken off your score for that, Mr. Anagram! As for you, Mr. Scarhead, I didn't hear a word from you, so well done!"
Thomas fumed while Harold was stunned. "Um, thanks Steve!"
"Your next test will involve conjuring a chair," Steve explained after a few more Death Eaters had been summoned for backup in case of a repeat performance from Thomas. "This is an opportunity to showcase your power and imagination, so we will give you a couple minutes to come up with your best idea."
Harry racked his brain for something, anything, that might be useful. A recliner would be a great option, but had a lot of moving parts, and might not hold up to scrutiny if the judges inspected it thoroughly. No, it would be best to go with something simple. Something unexpected. Something…
"The judges are ready if you are," came Steve's voice. Tom and Harold took a breath and went to work.
"The design on this chair is a little much."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear, and a little hurtful if he was honest. He had thought about holding back in the tasks, but after suffering humiliation in the first task, decided to go for it. In front of him was an ornate and imposing throne covered in gold with a couple lion faces protruding from the armrests. The judges were now evaluating his work, and it wasn't going very well.
One of the other judges nodded. "Agreed. And gold? Really? How tacky can you get? Everyone knows you can't conjure real gold, and fake gold is just insulting!"
Thomas gritted his teeth. "This throne was meant to demonstrate wealth and power! Do you mean to tell me that it doesn't accomplish that goal?"
"Oh, it does," one of the judges answered quickly. "The problem is that everyone would expect to see one of these things when meeting an evil overlord. It basically screams, 'I'm a traditional power-hungry megalomaniac with overly complex plans that inevitably fail because of too many moving parts and my favorite thing to do is monologue about how great I am and do evil stuff while conquering the world because I have daddy-issues.' We specifically asked for a chair so that functionality would be incorporated into your design."
Thomas sputtered. "But you can sit in it! How is that not the purpose of a chair?!"
"Yes, you can sit in it, but your version is not very comfortable or conducive to spending the entire day in, which may be required in the event of an intense planning session or organizational training meeting," answered one of the other judges.
Thomas fumed. "Fine. But don't think for a second that I'll forget a single one of you when I…"
A few concerned stares and ready wands reminded Thomas of his incognito status, and he abruptly stopped his rant. Wow, this whole undercover thing was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Shaking his head slowly, Thomas sighed. "Sorry. Continue."
"Is that a cushioning charm woven into the chair? And it rocks?"
Harold nodded excitedly. "Yep! And that's not even the best part!"
The judges stared at Harold in confusion. "There's more?"
Harold nodded again. "Look closely."
The judges scrutinized the chair even further before one of them let out a gasp. "A cup holder?"
Harold shook his head. "Not just one cup holder."
One of the other judges gasped. "Two cup holders?! One on each side?! Brilliant!"
The third judge just shook his head. "That has to be one of the most subtle flexes I've ever seen! Marvelous work!"
Harold basked in the praise as Thomas fumed, vowing vengeance.
"The last test will be eating an ice cream sundae. We are looking to see who do it in the most evil fashion. Once again, we will be looking for imagination in whatever method you choose to pursue. Here the cones come, so gentlemen, please begin when you are ready."
The judges looked on in confusion, then horror as Harold licked the whipped cream from his cherry before asking offering it to Thomas, who accepted and proceeded to swallow whole, stem and all.
"That's got to be one of the most evil displays I've ever seen," muttered one of the judges.
The second judge nodded, stunned. "The boy has been extremely sneaky. I think we might be witnessing the next member of the Inner Circle here."
The third judge agreed. "Just how casually he put his gross germs on that cherry and convinced the other recruit to take and eat it? There's no telling what he could have passed to the unfortunate lad. I didn't even see any compulsion charm being cast, and he did it all as if it never occurred to him how evil the act was! This guy is good."
Thomas proceeded to stare at his own sundae until an evil grin appeared. "Harold?"
Harold turned mid-bite to look at Thomas… and promptly got a sundae in the face.
The three judges sighed in unison.
"I really had a lot of hope for the older guy," the first judge commented, "but he always does the cliché bad guy stuff instead of coming up with something new. Times are changing, and we need to be ahead of the curve instead of stuck in the past."
The second judge nodded. "Yeah, he'll be a good addition for the lower levels, especially since he seems to have some power. But I don't see him rising very high."
The third judge bit his lip. "I don't know. I can't seem to shake the feeling that the bit of unhinged behavior he's shown might make him a favorite of the Dark Lord. Look at Bellatrix. He seems to like that sort of stuff from those close to him. There's just something that tells me he's going to go places, you know?"
The other two shrugged. "That could be," the first judge answered, "but he seems to make too many simple mistakes. For instance, he didn't even touch his sundae before shoving it into the younger recruit's face. What would he do with something like the secret to immortality? Leave a bunch of loose ends and obvious trails out there for some random kids to discover and defeat? No, he'll be a good follower, but I can't see him gaining too much influence."
The second judge nodded. "Right. Now, where to put them…"
"We have your results."
Harold and Thomas eagerly looked up at the judges.
The first judge stepped forward. "Harold, for your excellent results in each of the tests, we have assigned you to be assistant to the regional manager for all of our London operations, which should be a good place for you to learn the ropes on your way up."
"Cool! Assistant regional manager!" Harry cheered.
"No, assistant to the regional manager," the third judge corrected. "Completely different."
"And Thomas," the second judge broke in before any objections could be made. "We have assigned you to the Meathead Division where you will be able to put your abundant power to good use. The quickest way for you to rise will be by demonstrating an effective use of your power on the battlefield and proving your loyalty to the cause."
That slight proved to be a step too far for Thomas. "WHAT?! You would tell the most feared Dark Lord in history that the organization he created does not recognize his sheer overwhelming talent and capabilities?!" Voldemort took off the fake nose and wig to the shock and horror of the Death Eaters present. Voldemort looked around angrily.
"I suppose it isn't your fault that I concealed myself so well during the tests so that you could not recognize me, but all of you will be demoted! Even Harold! Especially Harold!"
"Well, I'll take that as my cue to leave," Harold commented, backing away. "Thanks guys!"
With that, Harry raised his arm and a phoenix flashed in, grabbed his arm, and disappeared with Harry in tow.
The assembled Death Eaters looked on in stunned silence. Voldemort was the first to recover.
"HARRY POTTER!"
