Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Series.

Sealing of Destiny

Twelve years late, the summer before Blaise's seventh year...

Dead leaves crackled underneath his feet as he followed his mother and father; feeling as if he was being led to his execution.

Although he wasn't going to be killed literally, well hopefully not, he wouldn't exactly be living after this night either. Or at least not living for himself.

But then again, when ever was he living for himself? During the summer when his parent's would parade him around their acquaintances; making sure that he would be with the 'right' crowd from early on in life? During the school year when he would be spending his time in the Slytherin common room; knowing that he was sealed to the same fate of darkness and destruction as everyone else in there?

He would have to face it that he never was living for himself. He never had control over his own destiny, and tonight would just be the final bond to his lifetime of despair.

Tonight he would dance with the devil's.

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Blaise continued to trod after his parents along the cobblestone path until they stop abruptly in front of a circular grass clearing among the woods, almost causing him to walk right into them.

In front of his parent's stiff rigid bodies he could see dark robbed wraith-like figures encircling the border of the clearing. Their hooded heads sent dark shadows obscuring their faces and their sleeves hung down past their hands.

This was it? He would have excepted more from the Dark Lord.

Without any consoling or explanatory word to him his parents drew up their own hoods and joined two empty waiting spots in the circle.

For a fleeting second Blaise was foolish enough to think of running, but as if sensing what he was thinking everyone in the circle stepped forwards thus enclosing it completely.

Despite being outside, the air suddenly felt as if it were something solid for Blaise. It felt thick and dense as if it couldn't simply be breathed, but rather be bit into and swallowed forcefully downwards.

He tried thinking of his fifth birthday. Maybe he couldn't blast away all these Death Eater's as he had Draco Malfoy. His feeling now were just as intense as they had been then, if not more, but it was in vain that he tried.

He had only been able to conjure up his power's like that once in his life so far and it did not look like he was about to make it twice.

Out of no where a strong wind began to rush forward his way. Unusually strong.

A glimmer of hope ignited within him and rushed though his body like a wildfire. Was this his doing? He looked around him realizing that none of the Death Eater's seemed interested in the unnatural wind.

Instead they simply shuffled away from one another and made an opening in their circle. Between it swept in the wind and a cloaked Voldemort.

It hadn't been Blaise's doing at all. Rather it had simply been a signal to the coming of his bringer of a sinister future. He cursed the foul irony of it all.

Voldemort stepped closer to Blaise and it took all of Blaise's self-control not to leap backwards. So much fear and Voldemort hadn't even pulled down his hood yet.

Despite his inward horror, Blaise kept a firm stance and level eyes.

Slowly, Voldemrort began to withdraw his hood revealing pallid yellow skin that seem to small for the head it was stretched so tightly over. It was like the skin of a drum. His smile was twisted like a crudely cut line in a tree stump.

For Blaise, the most terrifying feature was his slit-like eyes. They were crimson as if to reflect all the blood spilt by him and in his name.

"Zabini," Voldemort hissed in a voice that seem to slice through ones skin. "I have heard much of your power. Imagine, a five year old conjuring the winds to do his bidding. You will make some fine conquests when you join my Death Eater's. Bring out your left forearm."

He had no choice. To protest was to die, yet to give in was to lose choice of one's own destiny, but perhaps it wouldn't have to be permanent. Perhaps the Dark Lord would one day be vanquished or maybe he would one day find the courage to leave. The latter was less likely. Leaving Voldemort was the equivalent to suicide.

Blaise slid up his sleeve and held out an unblemished forearm to be desecrated with the dark mark.

Jabbing the point of his wand into Blaise's flesh, Voldemort began to chant vile words. The Death Eater's surrounding them began to chant along with him.

They stepped inwards in synchronized menacing steps enclosing Blaise and Voldemort further and further. It reminded Blaise of a pack of beasts enclosing in on their prey.

Abruptly, as scalding pain began to sear on Blaise's skin equal to no physical pain he had felt before. It was almost angry, as if it was demanding entrance.

Blaise bit down on his bottom lip hard, suppressing what would have undoubtedly been a blood curdling scream. He bit down so hard that he could feel his teeth wearing away his lips, meshing closer and closer together. It drew thick streams of blood and bile into his mouth.

Pain so intense that it dulled all his other senses so that he could not see what was happening around him. He fell onto the floor in a sweaty mangled mess.

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"So you have resisted young Zabini. Not willing to join my ranks?"

Blaise awoke to a raspy voice. He had had the worst nightmare...

The clearing, encircled darkly clad figures, and a pain like no other. The memories came flying back.

In a clumsy and frenzied harrow, he clawed away at his ridiculously long black sleeve. The fabric clung and tore at his nails, but he had to see if it was there.

"You'll find nothing there Zabini," rasped Voldemort in a mincing voice. "The mark only shows itself upon those completely willing to bear it."

After so much pain relief is a welcomed change, but for Blaise his relief was short lived. Surely, his resistance would cause his extermination. Perhaps he was going to literally die tonight.

"No I won't be killing you Zabini," Voldemort paused to put a contemplative and hideous finger to his chin, "or at least not tonight because you must remember Zabini that you must either live the path you were born and breed for or not live at all. Until you choose to concur with what is inevitable every minute of your life will be a minute you wished you were dead, but even death is not in your own hands for I will choose when you die. I'll have eyes out for you everywhere Zabini; monitoring your every gesture and your every word."

At this one of the Death Eater's stepped forward's.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy." Voldemort looked a bit interested.

Blaise shivered within himself. As if facing the Voldemort wasn't enough. Now he had to face the twisted likes of Lucius Malfoy as well.

The figure pulled of his hood and delivered his best saved smirk to Blaise. Not subtle enough to be Lucius. No, this wasn't Lucius, it was Draco Malfoy.

"I can help persuade him and keep an eye at him during Hogwarts my Lord. Crabbe and Goyle can help as well," Draco smiled pompously.

Blaise looked at Draco with cool piercing eyes at emitted an amused and cruel laugh. "YOU, Malfoy? Didn't you have enough when I slammed you into that wall when we were five? It seemed that way during school when you would practically jump out of your bloody knickers every time you saw me."

Draco paled and the other Death Eater's shifted uncomfortably. Who was this boy to refuse the Dark Lord and insult the son of his right-hand man?

"I wouldn't expect anything less Malfoy," interrupted Voldemort choosing to ignore Blaise. "And as for Zabini's powers, I reassure you that they haven't made an appearance since that day," Voldemort had a hint of amusement in his voice.

Voldemort shifted his attention to Blaise who had now gotten up from his spot where he was previously sprawled, and had the nerve to look brave and dignified. It forcefully reminded him of his encounter's with Potter. How sickening.

"And Zabini," Voldemort smiled "here's a preview to the rest of your future until you choose to align with me. Crucio!"

That was how Blaise Zabini left his Death Eater initiation ceremony. It was with no mark on his forearm, save a red dent where he had been jabbed with Voldemort's wand, and the promise of a very bleak and painful future.

To be continued...