It Only Took a Tragedy

Draco wished the searing pain would go away, but he knew better. If he disobeyed the Dark Lord, he would certainly be killed, just like his father. He bit his lip as he lifted up his sleeve to reveal the skull and crossbones glowing an astonishing green color. He hated the whole lot for murdering his father. But the only way to beat them was to play their game.... for now, at least.

He whispered the apparition spell his father had taught him long ago to train him for his place in the Inner Circle of Darkness. It was the most powerful branch of the Death Eaters, and he would be automatically accepted into it if he completed a difficult task assigned to him. His initiation would be tonight.

Suddenly, Draco stood in a secluded forest. One by one, more people appeared, hidden in black cloaks. No one said a word. He could not distinguish their faces which were hidden under their hoods. Out of nowhere, a great fire rose out of the earth, and through it came the essence of evil, Voldemort. It was the most shocking thing he had ever saw, but his face remanded expressionless.

Everyone was circled around the fire, and they starting chanting a haunting tune in sync. It caused Draco's spine to shiver. All of the Death Eaters bowed down to their Master, almost as if he was their god. Draco bowed with them, not daring to look Voldemort in his gruesomely deformed face.

"Silence," he heard Voldemort's ice cold voice say.

He walked slowly over to Draco. Draco could sense his physical weakness even without looking at him. His magic and his following, on the other hand, had grown immensely stronger over the years of his return. Each Death Eater gives his own blood to his Lord, making the servant a little bit weaker, and the master a little bit stronger.

"Look at me, boy," he said with a twinge of anger. Draco regrettably looked into his blood red eyes, trying not to show his fear or anger.

Sensing Draco's feeling that he did not want to be there, the Dark Lord laughed wickedly. "Careful. You don't want to end up like your father, do you?" Draco breathed in deeply, his jaw clenched. Nagi, the Master's snake, was rapping her legs around Draco, as a silent warning.

Draco lied. "You mistake me, my Lord. My father deserved to die for disobeying you. I, on the other hand, am here to serve you in any way possible." He was surprised how smoothly he had pulled it off. His lying abilities had always been a talent of his.

"Then get an heir of Gryffindor to join me. How about that girl? She seems the most vulnerable. If not, you can be sure I'll be coming for you." He laughed once again.

Draco knew this would be his task. It was the same task his father had received, but had failed. "It will be done. I guarantee it."

"Seduce her. Lure her into your arms. It won't be that difficult. She fell for me, and of course, history always repeats itself."

"Yes, it certainly does." You will fall, again. Except this time, I'll make sure you never come back.

At the end of the ceremony, Voldemort dismissed everyone except Draco. He wanted to speak to him alone. "If you succeed, next to me, you will be the most powerful wizard in the world. I know you yearn for that, Draco. I can sense it, even though you want to hold it back. Don't hold anything back. Do whatever it takes. There is no evil in this world, just power, and those whose are too weak to seek it. Keep that in mind, always." A hint of gleam appeared in Draco's silver eyes, though he could not be sure if what he was told was a lie or truth.

***

A few moments after he got back, Draco heard a knock on his door. It was Narcissa. She handed a small bottle to him. "Give this to her," she whispered.

Draco was taken by surprise. Never in the mansion had either of his parents spoke to him about being Death Eaters, for fearing their house was bugged. The only thing he had ever heard of it was by his father, the day he said, "Tomorrow, you will come. You are old enough now." That was the day before his seventeenth birthday. The day he was for sure of his fate.

"What is it?" he said curiously. The glass bottle was filled with fizzing blue liquid.

She put her finger up to her mouth to quiet him. "Memory potion," she spoke into his ear. He immediately understood her plan. He nodded his head as a thank you. The only thing he couldn't quite understand was why she was helping him. If he died, she would inherit his money that Lucius left him.

After she left, Draco, in his bed, turned the bottle around in circles with his fingers. He was pondering if he should use it or not. It would certainly make things easier... that is, if he were to go through with Voldemort's plan. Which was more impossible, getting Virginia Weasley to fall for him and join the Dark Side, or defeating Voldemort and all the Death Eaters, he wasn't sure. Either way, accomplishing the ultimate evil or good, would win him power and glory. Power can make a man do things he would never think possible. Seeking revenge on his father's killer, or becoming what his father always dreamed for him to be, was a decision that now haunted his mind, even when he tried to fall back asleep. Which one his father would be proudest of, he didn't have a clue. While dreaming, the words, 'there is no good and evil, just power, and those too weak to seek it,' were repeated, over and over, as if Voldemort had planted them in his brain.