The Apprentice
Knowledge is power. The ability to see what's coming, to know how to deal with what's coming, that is power. When a Hufflepuff is lost and dazed, when a Slytherin waits till someone else does it, when a Gryffindor throws themselves into battle, a Ravenclaw will know what to do, how to cope, when to pounce. They see their opportunities and they exploit them. They know which choice to pick. A Ravenclaw can tell when one side is losing.
That's how it all began, really. I didn't see how the Light Side could possibly win. I weighed the options, took a chance, an educated guess, and I went with Him. He was gaining support, rising from the ashes and burning off those who would oppose Him. I would not oppose Him.
It was in my sixth year that I switched over, but it wasn't like a light switch that just turned on. It was slow, drawn out, but all worth it. Looking back, I know that I made the right choice. And that's what a Ravenclaw has to do. They want to know. They need to know. It is in their blood, it is in their minds, in their souls. A thirst for knowledge. And knowledge is power.
I knew how to get in. It was my job to know. What better way to get to Him than through a Death Eater. Malfoy. Draco was dangerous, but he also craved knowledge, an upper hand that he used often. I approached him. I remember it so clearly. A clear blue sky played its illusions on the ceiling of the Great Hall.
"I need your help."
His face scrunched up in disgust. "What do you want, Ravenclaw?" He spat at my feet and said the name of my house as though it was a vile curse word.
I smirked. As though he would hesitate to say such a word with such an uncouth mouth as his.
"I know what you are. I want in. Now."
He narrowed his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me out of the Hall.
"What is it you want?" We were now in the corridors that led down to the Slytherin common room. Corridor wasn't the word, more like tunnel. Carved out of the stone foundation, it was very crudely made, and even centuries of erosion and mischievous vandalism could not smooth the gray, cold stone.
We kept walking towards the Dungeons.
"I want to serve Him. He is power. I want power."
More like knowledge. If I learned from Him, I could use power too cruel for the noble and skill too out-of-reach for the weak. I wanted to learn the Dark Arts from Him.
Again, Malfoy's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Come in." He said the password and we entered into the dank, low-lit lounging area of the Slytherin dormitories. I could easily tell that the Slytherin common room was below the lake, as it was oft rumored to be. I was ordered to sit, and Malfoy went down one of two corridors leading off to the sleeping area. Malfoy came out with a small vial with clear liquid inside.
"This is a truth serum. It makes-" he started, but I cut him off.
"I know what it is; I know that you will give me the vial, so give it your best, Malfoy."
He administered the burning liquid into my mouth. A fire slithered down my throat as the effects set in.
"What house are you in?" He started simple with me. Best to test the effectiveness on the serum first in case of immunity.
"Ravenclaw, unfortunately."
What was that? The last part?
"Unfortunately?" It seemed to have sparked his interest as well.
The burning liquid had complete control.
"I despise my house because it leaves it's loyalties in the hands of such filth as Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. They can't be trusted as far as you can throw them."
A grin spread across Malfoy's face. "Do you wish to serve the Dark Lord?"
"I wish to learn from Him, watch His ways, and do His biddings. I wish to serve the Dark Lord."
"Finite Incantatum." The burning sensation settled to only a minor irritation. "That's all I needed to know. You will be contacted, and you will become a Death Eater, if He wishes you to join him, that is." I was ushered out.
It was only a matter of days before I received a letter. I had the sense not to open it in the Great Hall. Too many eyes watching. Dumbledore, Gryffindors, even my fellow Ravenclaws.
The letter was a summons. I was to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with Draco Malfoy, who would have a Portkey.
All went as planned, and I stood in a graveyard on the next free Hogsmeade weekend. The sun was still low because it was not yet midmorning. I was in a crowd of hooded figures, white masks hiding all of their faces. I felt foolish, standing there in my school robes, completely out of character.
A cold, hard voice penetrated the silence. "You wish to serve me?"
Everyone kneeled down on one knee, bowing their heads. I followed suit, but I raised my head instead of bowing. I wished to see His face.
He was more dreadful than I had ever imagined. I had looked for records of him everywhere. There were school records and a handful of articles that actually showed his face. They were all before he had faced Harry Potter, and He was a powerful, commanding man then. Now, he was a thin, weak-looking excuse for a human who seemed as though he shouldn't be able to support himself. It was incredible to think that he was a person who many feared to even utter his name. This is where I started to have my doubts.
"Do not dally. Do you wish to serve me, or do you wish to doubt my power?" I was startled to discover that Voldemort could read my mind. I could feel the silky feeling of my memories and thoughts being shifted and sorted, being read, being studied by the Darkest wizard since Grindelwald.
I thought very hard on my decision. I wanted the power, I wanted the knowledge. He had the power, he had the knowledge. There was also the fact that, if I denied him, or decided against him in any way, I would not make it out of this graveyard alive. I gave myself up willingly.
The mark still burns to this day. He is still alive. He is still active.
I have been here too long. A lifetime sentence to Azkaban. That's one of the reasons why I can see all these memories. The dementors were dredging them up, making me relive every bad choice or wrong turn in my entire life.
I guess what they say is true. The only true Dark Wizards are Slytherins. Rarely are they caught. Look at Lucius Malfoy, for instance. The most active Death Eater under the Dark Lord, and he has yet to be trapped.
The memories have stopped coming back. I can no longer see the dark, cold shadows pass by my door.
A shadow does come to my door this time. The door swings open, and there is a person standing there.
"Come, Apprentice." It was Him. My savior. My liberator. My Master.
I had grown on him very quickly. He took to my skills and intelligence. He all but adopted me.
I had become his Apprentice. I was to become his successor. I am going to be the next Dark Lord.
Knowledge is power. The ability to see what's coming, to know how to deal with what's coming, that is power. When a Hufflepuff is lost and dazed, when a Slytherin waits till someone else does it, when a Gryffindor throws themselves into battle, a Ravenclaw will know what to do, how to cope, when to pounce. They see their opportunities and they exploit them. They know which choice to pick. A Ravenclaw can tell when one side is losing.
That's how it all began, really. I didn't see how the Light Side could possibly win. I weighed the options, took a chance, an educated guess, and I went with Him. He was gaining support, rising from the ashes and burning off those who would oppose Him. I would not oppose Him.
It was in my sixth year that I switched over, but it wasn't like a light switch that just turned on. It was slow, drawn out, but all worth it. Looking back, I know that I made the right choice. And that's what a Ravenclaw has to do. They want to know. They need to know. It is in their blood, it is in their minds, in their souls. A thirst for knowledge. And knowledge is power.
I knew how to get in. It was my job to know. What better way to get to Him than through a Death Eater. Malfoy. Draco was dangerous, but he also craved knowledge, an upper hand that he used often. I approached him. I remember it so clearly. A clear blue sky played its illusions on the ceiling of the Great Hall.
"I need your help."
His face scrunched up in disgust. "What do you want, Ravenclaw?" He spat at my feet and said the name of my house as though it was a vile curse word.
I smirked. As though he would hesitate to say such a word with such an uncouth mouth as his.
"I know what you are. I want in. Now."
He narrowed his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me out of the Hall.
"What is it you want?" We were now in the corridors that led down to the Slytherin common room. Corridor wasn't the word, more like tunnel. Carved out of the stone foundation, it was very crudely made, and even centuries of erosion and mischievous vandalism could not smooth the gray, cold stone.
We kept walking towards the Dungeons.
"I want to serve Him. He is power. I want power."
More like knowledge. If I learned from Him, I could use power too cruel for the noble and skill too out-of-reach for the weak. I wanted to learn the Dark Arts from Him.
Again, Malfoy's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Come in." He said the password and we entered into the dank, low-lit lounging area of the Slytherin dormitories. I could easily tell that the Slytherin common room was below the lake, as it was oft rumored to be. I was ordered to sit, and Malfoy went down one of two corridors leading off to the sleeping area. Malfoy came out with a small vial with clear liquid inside.
"This is a truth serum. It makes-" he started, but I cut him off.
"I know what it is; I know that you will give me the vial, so give it your best, Malfoy."
He administered the burning liquid into my mouth. A fire slithered down my throat as the effects set in.
"What house are you in?" He started simple with me. Best to test the effectiveness on the serum first in case of immunity.
"Ravenclaw, unfortunately."
What was that? The last part?
"Unfortunately?" It seemed to have sparked his interest as well.
The burning liquid had complete control.
"I despise my house because it leaves it's loyalties in the hands of such filth as Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. They can't be trusted as far as you can throw them."
A grin spread across Malfoy's face. "Do you wish to serve the Dark Lord?"
"I wish to learn from Him, watch His ways, and do His biddings. I wish to serve the Dark Lord."
"Finite Incantatum." The burning sensation settled to only a minor irritation. "That's all I needed to know. You will be contacted, and you will become a Death Eater, if He wishes you to join him, that is." I was ushered out.
It was only a matter of days before I received a letter. I had the sense not to open it in the Great Hall. Too many eyes watching. Dumbledore, Gryffindors, even my fellow Ravenclaws.
The letter was a summons. I was to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with Draco Malfoy, who would have a Portkey.
All went as planned, and I stood in a graveyard on the next free Hogsmeade weekend. The sun was still low because it was not yet midmorning. I was in a crowd of hooded figures, white masks hiding all of their faces. I felt foolish, standing there in my school robes, completely out of character.
A cold, hard voice penetrated the silence. "You wish to serve me?"
Everyone kneeled down on one knee, bowing their heads. I followed suit, but I raised my head instead of bowing. I wished to see His face.
He was more dreadful than I had ever imagined. I had looked for records of him everywhere. There were school records and a handful of articles that actually showed his face. They were all before he had faced Harry Potter, and He was a powerful, commanding man then. Now, he was a thin, weak-looking excuse for a human who seemed as though he shouldn't be able to support himself. It was incredible to think that he was a person who many feared to even utter his name. This is where I started to have my doubts.
"Do not dally. Do you wish to serve me, or do you wish to doubt my power?" I was startled to discover that Voldemort could read my mind. I could feel the silky feeling of my memories and thoughts being shifted and sorted, being read, being studied by the Darkest wizard since Grindelwald.
I thought very hard on my decision. I wanted the power, I wanted the knowledge. He had the power, he had the knowledge. There was also the fact that, if I denied him, or decided against him in any way, I would not make it out of this graveyard alive. I gave myself up willingly.
The mark still burns to this day. He is still alive. He is still active.
I have been here too long. A lifetime sentence to Azkaban. That's one of the reasons why I can see all these memories. The dementors were dredging them up, making me relive every bad choice or wrong turn in my entire life.
I guess what they say is true. The only true Dark Wizards are Slytherins. Rarely are they caught. Look at Lucius Malfoy, for instance. The most active Death Eater under the Dark Lord, and he has yet to be trapped.
The memories have stopped coming back. I can no longer see the dark, cold shadows pass by my door.
A shadow does come to my door this time. The door swings open, and there is a person standing there.
"Come, Apprentice." It was Him. My savior. My liberator. My Master.
I had grown on him very quickly. He took to my skills and intelligence. He all but adopted me.
I had become his Apprentice. I was to become his successor. I am going to be the next Dark Lord.