To Join the Dark Lord
In The Riddles' Mansion
The Dark Lord walked up to the table and the Death Eaters looked at him fearfully. They were enclosed in a room that was clearly once very grand and ornate. Since the Riddles' had ceased living in the house, the room now lay in shambles. Books were piled carelessly around the room and cobwebs hung from every available surface. Over the many years of neglect, countless layers of dust had built up and the floor was filthy.
"You mean to tell me," The Dark Lord began, "that everyone brought potato salad."
The Death Eaters nodded.
"We're sorry you're Lordship." Wormtail said quietly, staring hard at his feet.
He glared at Wormtail with his wide, livid scarlet eyes. His nose that was as flat as a snake's and with slits for nostrils that were currently flared in anger. "Then the planning party has been ruined. How am I supposed to come up with an ingenious plan to destroy Harry Potter if my stomach is full of potato salad?" The Dark lord hissed.
"I know!" exclaimed Severus.
"What exactly do you know?" demanded the Dark Lord.
"Well we could light a fire and roast marshmallows instead!" exclaimed Severus gleefully.
"Err… Sorry guys, I forgot them," Lucius lied quickly.
However, there is no fooling a man when it comes to marshmallows and Voldemort saw through this lie instantly. "You ate them, didn't you?" he snapped.
"Err… well… yes," Lucius stammered, an unfamiliar pink blush spreading across his normally pale cheeks.
"What kind were they? They weren't the sugar coated ones were they?" Wormtail cut in eagerly, the slightest trace of saliva escaping his chubby, pink lips.
"No, they were the fluffy pink kind," Lucius said as he hung his head in shame.
"Oh, they're my favorite kind!" moaned the Dark Lord.
A heated discussion of which type of marshmallow was the tastiest ensued; Voldemort clearly in favor of the fluffy pink variety, while Wormtail defended his beloved sugarcoated ones. There was a knock at the door and Draco stepped in.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said. Draco was the son of Lucius Malfoy; he had inherited his father's white-blonde hair, cold gray eyes and pointed face. The two were startling in their similarity, but there was an element Draco possessed that made him appear as the more approachable of the two. He had grown considerably in height in recent years, but he remained slim.
"No of course not, what do you want?"
"Well your Lordship, it's Friday the 13th and we, that being Crabbe, Goyle and I, think that one of us join should be granted the privilege of joining your ranks. We are all now 17 and it would be an honor to work for you, for you to be our master," Draco replied. He knew that he had to join Voldemort or else his father would kill him.
"After dinner you, Crabbe and Goyle will be tested to see if you have the right skills and whether you meet the requirements or not," The Dark Lord announced and began to eat. Although he was not a huge fan of potato salad, he was famished.
Once dinner was over and every plate was clean, licked clean in the case of Wormtail, the Dark Lord stood up. His red eyes looked around the room, staring at each of his followers seated around the oak table. "Bring in the other two.'' He commanded.
Draco returned shortly with Crabbe and Goyle in tow and they took their places lined up against the cracked right wall of the room. "The testing shall now begin. If any of you are to fail then do not think you will leave without having paid for your mistakes. Failure is not a habit to be encouraged; any failure in these tests will not be tolerated and harshly punished." An evil smile spread across the face of the Dark Lord and he added, "And to make this whole ordeal more entertaining, the person who scores the highest will punish the other two to prove their loyalty and strength."
"To begin with, which of you can cast the Dark Mark? Step forward if you are able to do so. I remind you now that I will know if you try to fool me."
Only Draco stepped forward. Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other dumbly as if this would somehow improve the situation.
"Crabbe, Goyle you fail the first test," The Dark Lord said coldly.
Both Crabbe and Goyle hung their heads and shuffled their feet nervously. The pressure was clearly mounting. Crabbe then raised his trunk of his arm and turned his troll-like face to look at Voldemort.
"Yes Crabbe, what do you want?"
"Umm, how many tests are there, sir?" he asked nervously
"Err, well I don't know. I'm making this up as I go along!" Voldemort whispered to Crabbe. "Now," he continued, "the next test is to kill…BELLATRIX WILL YOU PLEASE REFRAIN FROM PICKING YOUR NOSE IN MY PRESENCE!"
Bellatrix blushed madly and shrunk down in her chair. "As I was saying, the next test is to kill these rats," he said as he pointed to a small cluster of rats that were greedily feasting on the remains of McNair's potato salad.
Both Draco and Goyle bent down to pick up a rat, Crabbe however had remained upright. One of the rats, in a desperate attempt to avoid Goyle's boulder like hands, had run between Crabbe's legs. This had resulted in a screaming Crabbe, cowering under a chair muttering "find a happy place, find a happy place" to himself. The Dark Lord sneered in disgust while Lucius shook his head. Goyle banged his rat on the table and then handed it to Voldemort. "With magic please Goyle.'' The Dark Lord said in a bored tone and then gave him a new rat.
Goyle took out his wand, pointed it at the rat and said "Wingardium Leviosa," and the rat began to hover 4 feet in the air. With a few simple flicks of his wrist, he repeatedly hit the rat against the table until it stopped struggling and its body became limp.
Voldemort sighed and said "That will have to do then Goyle. ''
Draco waited patiently with his rat in hand until it was his turn. He placed the rat on the table and before the rat had even begun to contemplate fleeing; Draco drew his wand and screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"
He looked towards the Dark Lord and he nodded in approval. "Well, it is clearly evident who here has the right skills to join the elite ranks of the Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed, "I am ashamed to say that Draco faced no real competition from either Crabbe or Goyle. To prove to me that you are ready to receive the Dark Mark Draco, you must now punish Crabbe and Goyle," as he said this, a cruel smile began to spread across his features.
Draco stood frozen for a moment; unsure if he could torture the closest things he had to real friends in all of his years at Hogwarts. However, he craved success and had a deep desire to please his father. If he did not follow this direct command, there was no telling what would happen because of this. He turned to face Goyle and without flinching, he shouted "Crucio!" and watched as he began to writhe about on the floor, clearly in excruciating agony. Crabbe followed and this time Draco did not hesitate.
The Dark Lord nodded in approval, he knew Draco would serve him well; he stepped forth to give Draco the Dark Mark, but slipped on a piece of potato salad. He fell over and broke his neck. There was a shocked silence as the Dark Lord twitched and breathed out his last breath. All eyes turned to Draco and he murmured; "Now how am I supposed to get the Dark Mark?"
The end!
