They met, surprisingly enough, at Hogsmeade. Sixth and fifth years were allowed into the village on weekends these days. Younger years were deemed too defenceless, but Sirius and the other teachers were unwilling to deprive Hogsmeade of its customers altogether, and so the older students still went, taking requests and orders from those below Sixth year.
Malfoy and Harry, along with the two other students – Theodore Nott, who had been expecting to join for some time now, and a girl from the year above, Clora Trefoil – bought sweets, had Butterbeers, and waited outside a cauldron supplier's.
Harry inquired if there were any others at the school.
'Of course,' Draco responded.
'But it's too risky for them to come?'
'Correct. There's always a risk. You're only ever gone a few hours, but if they found out… still, you three are all in different years, so it should be okay. None of us go to meetings, just like no one at the Ministry does – at least, not usually. They have to keep cover. It's – ah, father, how are you?'
For Malfoy Senior had just Apparated into the street.
'Perfectly well. I'm glad to see you're punctual. So who have we here…? Miss Trefoil, Theodore, nice to see you young man, and, why, Potter! You agreed! What a surprise to see you here.'
Harry put up with Lucius Malfoy's feigned shock. He'd found out that the 'other' Potter boy had decided to become a Death Eater some time ago. Nonetheless, he couldn't resist indulging himself.
'The world's turning on end lately. And you really would do that to your own blood?'
'The Dark Lord killed his parents,' Harry said tersely. 'And I too would like to free myself from the tainted ties of my blood. Are we going?'
He wanted the conversation to end. It was only six o'clock, and they were smack in the middle of a Hogsmeade street. Malfoy took the advice, bad his son farewell, and Disapparated along with the three students.
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'Decided to finally honour me with your presence, Mr Potter?'
'Yes.' Daniel glared at the sallow man on the opposite side of the desk. The man, Professor Snape, sneered back, his eyes glowering with loathing.
Daniel had at first been startled as to why the new Potions teacher disliked him so much, but a word with his father soon clarified things. The two had been dire enemies in school. James reassured his son by telling him a few funny stories about Snape and he'd felt a little better, laughing about the man. In person, however, it was a lot harder to treat Snape lightly.
'Shall we begin then?'
'Yes,' said Daniel. 'I'd like to get this over with.'
Snape looked him in the eyes and assailed his mind, almost before Daniel had finished speaking.
Daniel mentally scrambled to block him, but was too late. He was distracted by his anger and dislike, and memories began flooding him. Fourth year, the kidnapping, when it all went wrong, Bellatrix's cold hands around his neck, almost hugging him, the rusty dagger, the blood… he saw the two Muggles dying again, their throats had been slit with the Cutting Curse, and black blood –
Snape pulled away from his mind. Daniel found himself on the stone floor, his head throbbing. He got up and looked Snape in the face, who showed no signs of what he had seen.
'Again,' he said crisply.
The same thing happened again and again – memories, mostly painful, flashing before Daniel's eyes, Snape stopping when he fell over or, more rarely, managed to break away. Finally, Daniel hardly knew whether he was on the ground or not, his attempts at Occlumency walls in complete tatters.
Though he would have liked to, he didn't ask Snape to stop. He was a Gryffindor and a Potter. He could outlast it. He wouldn't be the one to give in. But he rethought this when his scar started to hurt. At first it was just a dull ache, lost in his larger headache. It grew worse, though, blossoming into a splitting pain.
Daniel was about to say something, explain.
'Sir,' he began. But Snape's eyes were already boring into his. The man entered his mind, his Occlumency shields all but obliterated, and the pain in his scar was so intense that he almost blacked out. But he didn't.
Instead a familiar sight – a circle of Death Eaters – wavered before him, and he knew he was looking through Voldemort's eyes.
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They arrived at the meeting late or, Harry reflected as the circle of Death Eaters widened to admit the three newcomers, just on time. Everyone was there to see them come, to intimidate the three new recruits who had not even finished school.
And the intimidation was not lost on Harry, who felt terribly exposed. He, Clora and Theodore were the only three not wearing masks, and they were completely surrounded by the cloaked Death Eaters. But this was nothing compared to the Dark Lord himself.
He appeared soundlessly, his Apparation not even causing a rustle. A snake coiled lovingly around him. He stroked it momentarily, then dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
'My lord,' said Lucius Malfoy, stepping forward. 'I have brought you some new blood as you wished.'
He indicated the three Hogwarts students.
'They know what following me entails?' Voldemort said. 'They know that complete devotion is required? They know that adherence to our principles is on pain of death? And they know the benefits that accompany it?'
'Yes, my lord, they do. They are eager to serve you.'
Lucius pushed the first of the students forward, Theodore Nott. Harry suspected that he was being left till last, and wasn't too pleased about it. He didn't want to lose his nerve.
'What is your name?'
The boy opened his mouth, but the Dark Lord cut in before he could speak. 'Theodore Nott, is it? I am pleased to see so many following in the footsteps of their parents. You are very young, however.'
He paused as if in thought. Harry wondered whether he was rummaging through Nott's mind.
'My lord knows that youth is no barrier to ambition. My lord knows that young students must grow into wizards one day,' said Nott hurriedly, in what were obviously prepared lines.
The Dark Lord did not seem to mind. He listened to the boy's self-justification, nodded once, and ordered the boy to his knees. He said something too low for Harry to hear, Nott clearly replied 'I do,' and something black and sinuous shot out of Voldemort's wand and seemed to burrow into Nott's skin.
The same process was repeated for Clora, only this time the Dark Lord was less forbearing. He wanted to know why Clora felt she had anything to offer to him. She was a weak witch, almost a squib. Clora, nearly in tears, nattered about her family being well-connected on the Continent and she was finally accepted.
It was with relish that Lucius, at last, presented Harry to Lord Voldemort.
'Harry Potter,' he said, his lips quirking.
The Dark Lord was thoughtful.
'Your godfather is the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Your father is Head Auror. Your twin brother is Daniel Potter.'
Many of the Death Eaters looked away at his last words. The Dark Lord was never happy when his attention was called to the Boy-who-lived.
Harry held his gaze on the Dark Lord, unflinching.
'I am not my brother, nor my father, nor my godfather,' he said, letting a sneer play about his lips at the mention of each member of his family. 'My lord, I am free to choose my own destiny, and I want to follow you. I would like to sever all ties with my family. I took the first step when I was Sorted into Slytherin. I would like to take the last with the killing of my father.'
Harry took a quick breath after the lie, hoping the Dark Lord was buying his story. Overall it was based on truth, so it should work.
'And how could you help me?' the Dark Lord said. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry felt the slight touch of Legillimency.
'I know some Dark Arts, such as you can learn from books. But obviously nothing compared to the things one can learn from you, my lord.'
In his mind's eye, Harry saw images of the books he'd read, memories of them and the curses flashing through his head. He willed himself to be calm, not to think of other, more compromising things, and eventually the touch of Voldemort's mind disappeared. He was satisfied, he had ascertained that Harry spoke truth.
'Kneel.'
Harry obeyed, and then bared his forearm on the next instruction.
The Dark Lord approached, gripped his shoulder. He forced Harry's head up and stared into his eyes. The Legillimency before was nothing compared to this now – this relentless pummelling of the Dark Lord's mind. Before it had been a faint brushing, an attempt to catch surface thoughts. Now the Dark Lord was ripping through his mind.
Harry again willed himself calm, ignoring the force that was attempting to uncover his deepest secrets. He thought of Daniel's arrogance, Daniel getting all the attention, Sirius' quick judgement of him, his father's distaste for him and clear preference for Daniel. Every time he'd been wronged, punished unfairly or neglected rose to the front of his mind. Harry let the hate surge through him, and with it his longing for power and recognition.
The Dark Lord searched for any memory that betrayed Harry, but Harry was not distracted. Caught up in a maelstrom of his basest feelings, he almost didn't notice when Voldemort's mental assault stopped.
'Do you serve me, to death or immortality?'
'I do.'
The Dark Lord said something that ended with 'Morsmordre' and, for the third time that night, something leapt out of his wand. Harry felt a momentary searing sensation as it burned into his skin. When he looked he saw a snake, curling out of a skull's mouth. It was already fading. Harry, feeling slightly numb, pushed his sleeve back and, on Voldemort's word, fell into the ranks next to the two other students. Someone passed a mask and he put it on.
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Severus Snape widened his eyes at what he was seeing. He had tried to pull away when he had first found himself seeing through the Dark Lord's eyes, but had been unable to. His mind was locked firmly to Daniel's, which was locked to the Dark Lord's. Snape found, with some distaste and not a little dread, that he could even sense what the Dark Lord was feeling. He suspected it was different with Daniel; somewhere, miles away in the dungeons of Hogwarts, Severus's ears told him that Daniel was shrieking in pain.
The Dark Lord had just intitiated Daniel's brother. That had been a shock. Severus had quickly realised the boy wasn't on the best of terms with his father when, instead of becoming enraged when Severus had slandered James, he had simply nodded in agreement. He had known the boy was a better student than his brother and a Slytherin, but he hadn't known he practised the Dark Arts or was going to join the Dark Lord's supporters. Has joined, Severus corrected himself.
The boy he'd taken as the Potter Family Disappointment had become a Death Eater and expressed an intention to kill his father, seemingly with complete sincerity. The Dark Lord had believed him.
In all, it was worrying. He hadn't known a thing about it, despite being Potter's Head of House. Snape wondered if he was losing his touch
He quickly drew his attention back to the Death Eater meeting, however. The Dark Lord was angry. He did something with his wand, and waited.
A Death Eater stumbled forward out of thin air.
'Black!' snapped the Dark Lord, not even giving the wizard a chance to gain his balance. 'Is it true, what I have heard?'
'And what is it that you were told, my lord?' said Regulus Black. He didn't sound nervous, but then he never did. Snape didn't really like Black, though he had been friends (more like allies) with him once. Black was arrogant, ardent, and, what was yet more unforgivable, he was an extremely talented wizard. He was so skilled in duelling and Occlumency that even Severus had to admire him.
'You failed to carry out the task I assigned you.'
Black looked down in shame.
'There is nothing I can say to excuse my failure, my lord.'
Black was demonstrating his trademark style; Severus preferred to be subtle, understated. Black was invariably blunt, and so disingenuously credible that it was impossible to pick when he was lying, and when he was not. Rather like Harry Potter, Severus thought uneasily.
'I am not pleased, Black.' The Dark Lord made a decisive motion with his wand and said, 'Crucio.'
Black gave himself up to pain, and his screams seemed to fill the air.
It went on so long that the newer Death Eaters began to shift slightly on their feet. Potter, however, was smiling lightly. Severus wondered whether it could be an act, and didn't think it likely.
Voldemort finally relented, and Black got slowly to his feet.
'Now that you have been adequately punished, I want your explanation for your actions, pitiful as it must surely be.'
'I captured Cleo Antony like you ordered. In the process I also managed to injure an Auror, his name was Croshaw I believe.'
'She was guarded,' said Voldemort.
'As my lord predicted. There were in fact five Auror guards. When I finally managed to escape with the prisoner I was badly injured. I was unable to interrogate her, and I had to fetch a Healing potion. She escaped whilst I was occupied.'
The Dark Lord nodded, with an expression that might have been benevolent in another man. Despite Black's simple, casual account of the night, he had clearly done well considering he'd had to face five Aurors. Black was allowed to go without further punishment. Then the Dark Lord's features stiffened into a spasm of suppressed rage.
'There is a traitor among you. Too many times in the past months have our plans been thwarted. Antony should not have had such a large guard. They must have known an attack was planned. Someone told them.'
He looked around the ring of robed figures with deathly slowness.
'They who betray me never live long,' he warned.
Severus felt a pang of terror, but quickly stifled it. He'd survived this long, and dealt with worse than this. If the Dark Lord showed signs of distrust around him, he'd become the model Death Eater again, and the Order would have to live without inside information for a time.
Voldemort spoke to a few Death Eaters individually, then vanished in a swirl of robes, leaving the Death Eaters to themselves. With a fuzzy spinning, Severus was flung back into his own mind.
He turned his attention immediately to Daniel, who was getting up from the floor. How much had he seen? How much did he remember? All? A little? Nothing?
Severus looked Daniel once in the eyes and knew everything. The boy, never very good at Occlumency, was exuding hate and pain with all the intensity of the sun.
'I'll kill him!' Daniel exclaimed. He swore vehemently, turned, and ran from the room.
Severus, sensing disaster ahead, ordered him to wait.
Daniel completely ignored him.
'Stop. No? Fine. Impedimenta and ten points from Gryffindor for disobeying a teacher.'
Snape caught up to him, then without the slightest pang of regret levelled his wand at the boy.
'Obliviate.'
Daniel, the Impedimenta's effects wearing off, hurried forward. His eyes had gone blank, however, and it quickly became apparent he did not where he was or what he was doing.
'What – where am I? I want to go – I, er, was going to Si -.'
'To the Gryffindor Common Room, as you should at this time of night,' Severus interjected firmly.
Daniel, whatever his deficiencies in Occlumency, had an unfortunately strong-willed mind, and did not take well to the memory charm. Severus gave him his blackest glare, hoping Potter would be deterred from questioning him. It worked.
The boy, piteously confused, changed direction and headed for his dorms.
Severus watched him go with satisfaction. He couldn't let Potter go away with that knowledge. Though Severus didn't believe him capable of murder, he certainly expected the boy would have tried something nasty on Harry, and who knew how he would react? The idea of the Potters killing each other was certainly a very attractive one, but much too impractical. People would start wondering how Daniel had found out in the first place.
Snape left to see Dumbledore. He had, quite naturally, a lot of news.
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Harry is not going to be incredibly evil in this fic. urgh. i hope not, anyway. At the moment he is misguided and adhering to an "ends-justify-means" philosophy.