Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters and settings belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Two: Completely Greener Grass
I felt like I did when I first joined the deatheaters. Like I was free of all the pain and terror and horror and everything bad.
Ironic. That was what I had finally become.
Bad. Evil. A despised being made to roam beneath the ground until we all rise as the plan suggests.
Most of us will die when we take over. All of those fools who try to fight us are getting ready. Someone told them of the plan. That person is dead now. Noone knows if the ministry killed him or if it was our master. Someone did. Not in a nice way either. The traitorous rat would have felt all the pain that he was entitled to through death. Though not enough if you ask me.
Those who tell do not deserve any type of freedom.
Some of the other deatheaters are acting strange around me. They might know about me getting caught. They might just be uneasy about me being around. Probably new ones.
More people are trying to join our master's ranks since they have realised what side are going to win. Ours obviously. Hardly any of them have what it takes to become a deatheater though. It's funny to watch some of them. Stumbling around like idiots. Not knowing which and what way to turn and what they are supposed to be doing. There should be some more of them trying to join today. I'm on what is called idiot patrol. Which means that I have to clue them in on how to behave so that they don't die.
It was very hard when I first joined. Firstly the entire prospect was daunting. Then there was fear of if I was taking the right course of action. Then there was all the tests to see if I could cope with being a deatheater. Then there was the dark mark ceremony. That one really hurt. Like live fire placed onto my skin.
Which is what makes idiot patrol fun sometimes. It's a way to practice your curses, to test yourself as a deatheater and to generally see how strong your will power is. Sometimes we are on trial just as much as the new ones are. Which is less fun but it does sometimes mean that you can get promoted.
Or killed but you have to take everything that gets thrown at you anyway. Might as well try to get to near the top whilst you have a proper chance. Instead of just sitting around looking confused and just waiting as the lowest grade type of deatheater until you die.
I don't know what it is like near the top. I am only just off the bottom myself. I do not know if there is a name for the place that I am in now. All I know is that it is better. In theory then- the next place up would be even better than this one. As they always say, the grass is always greener...
"Oi Weasley! Hurry up." The call jolted me out of my thoughts and I hurried behind the person to the room where all the new judging takes place. I had only been on idiot patrol once before. Only one of the ones I tested were strong enough to become a deatheater. The others were put to death immediately, well, some had time to think about it during torture.
I looked through the door to the room and saw a whole group of people sitting there. Most shaking. Some bragging about how much they were going to become a deatheater, those were the ones who failed the most, some were... Some were...
Ginny?
A/N: The next chapter should be longer and quicker updated. Does anyone know the full name of Ginny?