Chapter 3

Harry Potter looked around the Forest. Even though it was in the middle of afternoon, the forest held a dark shadow that loomed over everything, giving the forest an overall eerie feeling.

"Where is he?" Harry thought to himself as he walked carefully along the rough ground. He walked slowly with his eyes on the ground watching for roots that were sticking out. The last thing he needed was somebody to see him trip and fall on his face. That would be quite embarrassing to say the least.

He continued through the forest, getting increasingly suspicious about his surroundings. He still hadn't found what he was looking for. He was about to turn around to see if he had missed the clearing where he was supposed to meet, when there was the sound of a branch snapping to his left. His Quidditch reflexes coming in handy, he quickly grabbed his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and pointed it towards the sound.

"Who's there?" Harry said, barely more then a whisper, and full of suspicion. Surely no one had seen him come into the forest. And even if they had, they wouldn't actually follow him... Would they?

Harry was getting continually more nervous. If anyone found out about him he'd be sent to Azkaban before you could say "Broom Stick". He started walking forward toward the sound when he heard a male voice whisper something unknown and his wand flew out of his hand. Before he could react two arms came up behind him and wrapped around his neck tightly making him lose his breath and fall to his knees. This only lasted a moment as they were just as quickly loosened from his neck, and Harry went on all fours, gasping for breath.

There was a slight twinge on his forehead, but didn't notice. He was still trying to catch his breath, when the person from behind picked him up roughly and stood him on his feet. He looked up and saw a tall figure dressed in a black robe. From inside his hood Harry could see the familiar red slits belonging to his Master, Lord Voldemort.

"Potter, Potter. You really need to be more conscious of your surroundings." Harry could hear the smirk in his voice.

Harry replied with a slight bow, "Yes Master, I just wasn't expecting an attack by my own."

"Indeed Mr. Potter? We are not your own yet. Though, the time will come and we will work on being aware of your surroundings in your training. I trust no one saw you come here?"

"No, though you did call for me in the middle of my class with Severus. I think he's beginning to get suspicious, you know. At least I had already been kicked out of class."

"I call you when I need you. I will not wait just to work around your busy schedule. I do suppose we'll work on helping you bring less attention to yourself in your training also." Harry bowed his head in acknowledgment. For the first time he noticed his surroundings. There were several Deatheaters standing around in a circle, with himself and Voldemort in the middle. They all had their eyes on him, which made him extremely uncomfortable. His Hogwarts robes that he was wearing did not have a hood on them like the Deatheater's hoods. Harry hated how the Deatheaters could see his face perfectly clear, but he could see nothing more then the stature of the body. Oh how he longed for his hooded robes.

"Now for the reason we called this meeting. Even though you have a trace of the Dark Mark on your arm, it is not the full Mark. Therefore your Initiation will be held in exactly a week, next Friday. An owl will be sent notifying you of timings and such. But I'm warning you Potter. Don't let that stupid Weasley see this owl. Or you'll find yourself dead as quick as I killed your mother and father."

Harry visibly paled when Voldemort mentioned his parents. He could hear the voices of his parents in his head but quickly pushed the sounds out of his head. It hurt to think of them; even if they were fighting against his Master they were his parents.

Voldemort saw the wounded expression on Harry's face at the mention of his parents and let out a sharp, cruel laugh. Harry's fellow Deatheaters joined in with Voldemort's laughing, making Harry feel even more intimidated then he already was.

Voldemort stopped laughing abruptly and took a sharp look around the circle which quieted his followers immediately.

"Shut-up you fools! This is no time for laughing!"

One short, stout looking figure stepped out of the ranks of Deatheaters, into the circle and replied with a slight chuckle, "But Master, you were laughing along with us; surely you saw the humor in the Potter boys reaction?"

"I did not give you permission to speak Pettigrew! Crucio!"

Harry stood there, silent, quite enjoying the sight before him. He always disliked Wormtail; he was so stupid and cowardly. So naturally, any pain inflicted on him, especially from Voldemort, would be quite amusing to see.

Voldemort continued the curse, looking over to Harry, "Ah Mr. Potter, I see you're enjoying this but none the less, it is time for you to leave. Don't forget about your owl." Harry nodded and bowed out of the circle, as his master continued the curse on Wormtail.

Harry slowly turned around and started walking back to the castle laughing lightly to himself, smile on his face. Becoming a Deatheater was definitely turning out to be one of Harry's best decisions yet.