Chapter 7

Harry's feet landed hard on the cold stone floor of what could only be an unused basement, judging by the strong smell of must, something similar to the smell of a rotting...something, floating in the air.

The room was a plain, square-shaped room, with no windows (obviously, it's a basement). The walls were bare stone except one single portrait which hung in front of the group.

Harry reached into his pocket and reached out his mask and fitted it over his face. He could hear the others moving to put on their own masks...sensing everyone was ready he, followed closely by Draco and the rest, slowly made his way to portrait.

Harry didn't exactly understand what he was supposed to do. He looked at Draco who was now standing on his left.

"Were you told about any passwords?" Draco shook his head soundlessly. They both turned their heads to the rest of the future Deatheaters and they all mimicked Draco, shaking their heads.

There was a sudden rattling coming from the portrait and every pair of eyes in the room watched as the portrait began to open. Harry held his breath and began his march to darkness.

The room was unbelievably huge; they couldn't tell they were even in a basement anymore, which they probably weren't. The walls were covered in tapestries of war, turmoil and suffering that made the hair on Harry's neck stand up as he viewed each one. He shivered unnoticeably. As he continued examining the room he noticed thick drapes of black and silver hung from the high, arched ceiling. The air was thick with power it was almost unbearable. They all walked in line, in formation as practiced, to the centre of the room where several circles were formed; the inner circle being the most trusted and loyal of all the Dark Lord's supporters.

Standing in the centre of the circles was Voldemort himself. He wore no mask, letting his pale, sickly face stick out, contrasting greatly with his black robes.

His snake like slits, made to be eyes, glowed an intense red. The recruited made their own semi circle around their Lord, then, simultaneously, bowed down, their foreheads inches from the rough stone floor. Everything was silent.

Voldemort walked by each cloaked wizard and witch individually, watching, as if he were trying to look inside them, to find their true purpose for the power they were sure to gain through joining him. He returned to his post in the centre.

"I'm sure you all know why we are here. Tonight I am extremely pleased to invite a handful of students into my many ranks of followers. I'm sure we will all appreciate a little new blood around here." He smirked as he looked around the room. "Now, let the initiation begin."

One by one, each person was told to stand and was beckoned forward. Harry was first in line.

Harry stood up from the floor and made his way to the centre of the ranks to face Voldemort. He held his head high, in an almost Malfoy fashion, his body language not showing for one second any sign of fear. He looked Voldemort straight in the eye, waiting.

Then, low so no one but him and the semi circle of teens could hear, Voldemort hissed, "Well Mr. Potter... I would have never imagined this day would ever come. I'm glad you've finally seen the light in the dark." And with that simple statement he whispered some incoherent spell then pressed his wand tip into Harry's left forearm.

The pain seared through his entire arm, spreading through his body, coursing through every vain, artery and nerve. Before he even had a chance to visibly react the pain was gone, reduced to just to a dull ache around the mark. He wouldn't have shown any reaction anyway. Something Harry had learned long ago from a certain Lucius Malfoy was that letting your true feelings show was only a sign of weakness.

"It is done. Welcome Deatheater. You may now join the ranks." Harry bowed his head, turned swiftly on his heal and strode through each circle until he reached just beyond the outermost. He created a new circle, showing a new generation of followers.

After each person was brought into the group, and Voldemort had bellowed out his final speech, they were all dismissed. Some disapparated in groups, some stayed, whispering to each other, slowly making their way out of the room. Draco walked over to Harry.

"Congrats mate!" Draco shook Harry's hand excitedly. "Man Potter, I've been waiting my whole LIFE for this, and now it's finally here. I mean, look at us! Look at what we've become. Things are definitely going to start looking up. Shit Harry...We completely OWN Hogwarts now. It's ours to own...to rule!" Harry agreed with Draco, their new found status could practically get them anything they wished for. Their wish would be EVERYONES to grant, if they knew what was good for them anyway. Harry chuckled and patted Draco on the back.

"Well, I'll be heading back to my dorm...I'll see you and the others in class tomorrow I guess."

"You sure you don't want to stay in the dungeon tonight for the celebration?" Draco's smirk shown across his face. Once again Harry just chuckled.

"Nah, I think I'll pass Draco. Weasley's probably waiting up for me as we speak. I swear, the boys in love with me. See you later." Draco laughed, nodding his goodbye and moved onto the next crowd of people throughout the room.

Harry went over to the corner of the room, closed his eyes about to picture the Hog's Head in his mind to apparate when he heard someone call his voice from behind. He opened his eyes and rotated his neck to look. He saw a small familiar figure running towards him. Out of breath she greeted him.

"I thought I'd missed you!" Harry knew now that it was Pansy.

"Nearly, but no." he replied. He could feel her bright smile shine through the mask towards him. He knew where his feelings stood with Pansy and he sure as hell hoped she held the same for him. Pansy was the only girl that he had ever truly had feelings for. Not just some fling or crush. No, Pansy was definitely special. Harry had become so entranced with his thoughts of her that he didn't even notice her waving her hand in his face.

"Hey! You in there?"

"Oh! Sorry Pansy...I was just thinking." Her voice was then etched with worry, mixed with curiosity.

"Thinking about what exactly, Harry?" 'Well, better now then never" he thought to himself.

"About you." He replied simply, showing the smirk he'd grown quite accustomed to. There was a silence and Harry knew she didn't know what to say, so he spoke instead.

"I want you Pansy. I need you." His words were blended with his lust for her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and gently pulled her closer to him. Looking around he noticed almost everyone had left the hall. He looked back at Pansy, the desire for her showing in his eyes. He gently pulled off her mask exposing her red tinted cheeks. He looked into her eyes, searching for anything that might mirror the way he felt right now. She sent him her own smirk and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. With one hand she removed his mask and she let it fall to the ground. Running her thumb along his cheek, she sent what felt like an electric current through his body. She brought her lips up to his ear. He could feel her warm breath on his cold skin that made him tremble even more as she whispered,

"If you need me so bad, why don't you take me." She then looked at him, the smirk now replaced by a seductive smile. Harry bowed his head down, about to make feel her lips against his when she suddenly pulled back.

Harry looked at her in confusion. Her smile gone, her smirk right back in place, she giggled at him. She bent down and picked both of their masks and, as she threw him his own she giggled again.

"Gotta go, see you tomorrow Harry." And she apparated on the spot.

Harry stood there, dumbfounded. "What the hell just happened?" Harry shrugged to no one in particular and replaced his mask, deciding to take a much needed walk instead of apparating right away. Leaving through the same door he had come in, but as a completely different person, with the Dark Mark shining a rich black against his pale skin, he headed back to the only real home he had ever known but without a single regretful thought in his mind.