Chapter 4: A Special Mission

Dumbledore had given you a gigantic birthday cake with orange colored and flavored icing and lots of fruit. You shared it with your closer friends over the next couple of days, but you had told none of them where you had actually been, saying only that you had been invited to a school, and the professor had taken you shopping. They don't know what a professor would actually do anyway, so it didn't take a lot of convincing.

However, you had to hide your anticipation. Magic! Away from these ordinary muggles! You cannot wait for September first to come. On the second day, you had thought that it was a dream, but the beautiful wand now resting on your desk reminded you otherwise. A couple of the kids that thought you were freaky looked happy to see you go, but so were you. In fact, you had tried hard not to skip down the stairs and shout out the news.

Now it is the twenty-eighth of August, and there is only two more days until you board the train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Every day you wake up and feel an excitement you can barely contain in your stomach.

You are reading your new textbook, trying to absorb as much knowledge about magic as possible, and trying out a few spells too. Your personal favorite is Incendio, which blasts a powerful flame. It was suppose to go a few feet, but for you it bounced off the walls and anything else you didn't want to hit. You have a particular control over fire. But that's when you hear knock on the orphanage's door.

You listen carefully, unsure to eavesdrop or not. On one hand, it might provide useful information. Or it might not be about you, and you're just being rude. You shake your head and continue to read. Not today. If it is about you, you will find out later.

You hear footsteps on the stairs, and later, a knock on your door. You feel your heart stop for a millisecond, and immediately get paranoid. What if they're going to tell you that they've made a mistake, and you can't attend Hogwarts?

"Amy?" Comes Mrs. Jones' voice. You turn around in your spinny chair. Your heart leaps up to your throat. Following Mrs. Jones was definitely another wizard, and this time, he hasn't even tried to dress up like a muggle. He was wearing all black, with tight sleeves and lots of shiny metal buckles. He has long, unkempt, shoulder length hair and a stony face. His eyes were a dark black, set on a gaunt, bony face. "You have another visitor. He's here to talk more about this school you're attending." She turns around and left. The visitor walks in.

Unlike Dumbledore, who was a kind old man that radiated calmness, this wizard gives off an air of menace and danger. He smiles. It looks unnatural on his face, like he hasn't smiled in a long time. "Amy Waldgrave." He says, stretching out his hand. You shake it. "Boy, did I take the trouble to find you."

"You're another wizard, aren't you?" You ask, but it was barely a question.

"Aye, that I am." The man grinned, revealing crooked yellow teeth. He reminds you of a hungry hyena. "M'name's Rosier. Avitus Rosier. Nice to meet you." He sits down on your bed. You grimace barely visibly as his dirty black leather clock touches your clean blue cover.

"I broke out of prison to meet you, I did." He takes out his wand and starts polishing it with his cloth, but only succeed in making it dirtier. "To find you."

You clap twice. The room sound-proofs itself. If he's going to be loud, you're not going to let anyone hear. "Why did you want to find me so badly?" You ask the direct question, but in your mind, you wanted to say: Why was he in prison? Was there a wizarding prison?

"Well, Dumby's friends probably already told y'all about Hogwarts." He sighs. It takes you a while to figure out he meant Dumbledore.

"Yes, he has." Pausing a little, you recall a bit of conversation you had with the headmaster. "Are you a servant of Lord Voldemort?" Disregarding Dumbledore's advice, you look into his eyes and nodded to yourself. This man is a minion of the Dark Lord.

"Oh, you are a legilimen!" Rosier is clearly taken aback. "And I see that Dumby has taken the trouble to visit you himself. Well, this job is gonna be a little more difficult than I thought."

"Why did you want to see me?" You go back to your original question.

Rosier is silent for a while. Then he speaks up. "I want you to help me. To help the Dark Lord."

You try to keep your face passive. According to Dumbledore, Voldemort is a horrible wizard that has killed hundreds, but was brought down by Harry Potter, a baby boy. In reality, the shock hit you like a train. You? Why you? There must be someone better than an eleven year old.

"Why do you want my help? There must be someone better than me." You decide that honesty is the best policy.

Rosier stares straight at you. His gaze is like that of a ravenous wolf. "This orphanage's told you nothing, has it." He pauses, thinking. "Well, you have very powerful ancestry. The followers of the Dark Lord like that. You are pureblooded, meeting our requirement." You nod. Dumbledore had said that both of your parents were magical. "And I have found recently that you're very powerful yourself. " He sighs. "But let me tell you this. The true reason we wanted a spy in Hogwarts was because we wanted a spy on Dumbledore. He is the only wizard my Lord feared. Your parents were Dumbledore's best friends. He will be friendly towards you."

You nod your head, understanding a little better. Rosier was shifting a little uncomfortably, and for the first time, he doesn't look that intimidating. "One more question." You need more to make up your mind, and you hate yourself a little for this. Normally people would immediately say no. Your adventurous spirit and your low morality forbid you to, however. "Why should I help you?"

Rosier straightens a little. "Look around you. Look at this world." You hear the pride in his voice. He sounds zealous of his belief. You aren't sure you are. "Muggles runs this world, while us wizards hide. It's all upside down. Muggles should fear the supreme wizards, not the other way around. We wizards should not be ashamed of what we are. Muggles should accept it. Does your- roommates- not make fun of who you are? Think you are a freak?" He grins a little at the look on your face. "I'm right, ain't I?"

You do not speak. Rosier makes an impatient tutting sound. "Tick tock, it's decision time. What do you believe in, who do you serve?"

You close your eyes. Your mind is racing, hearting beating against your ribcage. You are about to make most likely the most important choice of your life, and the response you are considering is definitely a risky move. You can lose your life. You decide to take that chance.

"The one I always have." Your voice is as solid as a rock. Rosier's grin fades a little. He thinks I'm serving the muggles! You think in your head. "The highest bidder." He regains his confident. "What can you and your Dark Lord give me in return?"

His grin widens, showing his gross gums. "Fame, glory, and respect. Think about it, if you do your job well, I am convinced that my Lord will regain power and control. You will become his right hand for your contributions. That is more than what Dumbledore can ever offer."

You close your heart again. You hated those who calls you freaks, and this time, it's your revenge. You can reverse everything, making magic the norm, and never be excluded. When you open your eyes, your expression is fierce. "Then that makes you the highest bidder."

You extend your hand and Rosier shakes it with his own, still grinning widely. It does not soften his features but makes him more crazed and wild. "When you get to Hogwarts, talk to Professor Snape. Ask him for help. He was an insider, but I'm not sure where his loyalty is now. Speak my name and he'll understand." He suddenly grasps your hand tightly, and you feel a burning sensation on your left forearm. You gasp, and gingerly lifts up your sleeve, to reveal a jet black tattoo of a skull with a snake as a tongue. "Your Dark Mark. Tap on the Snake's head to hide it, on the skull to reveal it. Press against the body to summon the Dark Lord. Of course, that's not gonna work now."

Still grinning wider than ever, he takes a step back, turns on his heels, and disappeared with a loud pop just like Dumbledore. You shake your head. How are you going to explain his disappearance to Mrs. Jones? Shaking your head again, you decide to first wash your bed sheet.

Author's Note: I would like to say a word of thanks to everyone that is reading this, because you have stuck with me or Amy until at least the fourth chapter. Please like or follow, I worked hard on this. Please review if you feel like I did a good job or if I need to fix something. I look forward to publishing more.