Eight Shades of Green

Chapter 3 - The Fist and The Wand

Sirius and Harry followed Dumbledore up to the stone gargoyle, where he said the password (sugar quill), climbed the stone spiral staircase and sat behind his desk.

" The news that Sirius will be covering Defence Against the Dark Arts has come as a bit of a surprise to both of you. Goodness knows, it should, for that is exactly how I planned it to be. Firstly, Harry, as you know you are to undertake a special mission this year, a mission that will require the full extent of your wits, and also utilise the skills you gained during your Auror training. Sirius, I have already offered you some teaching work, and it seems that I will require you to teach in Harry's place. I cannot ignore the looks of astonishment and horror on your faces, so I will offer some further explanation.

'Harry, the mission you are required to undertake will be strenuous, so I am sending you on a month's holiday touring the famous Scandinavian health spas, then leaving you perfectly geographically positioned to continue your journey. During this time, Sirius will teach in your place."

"Professor, why didn't you tell us this before?" asked Sirius, looking slightly hurt.

"For a very sensible reason. I knew that if I told you my plan in advance, both of you would object. You, Sirius, would refuse to participate in something that put Harry in danger, whilst putting yourself in equal danger due to Octavian Malfoy. You, Harry, would not want to go off if he knew that Sirius had to take your place, feeling it was an unfair swap. When told you had to go, you would try to be overly courageous, take some risks and make it more dangerous for yourself, bearing a thirst to prove yourself and live up to your Godfather's expectations. Am I correct, or was I just being overly cautious?"

Dumbledore smiled as got his answer by the fact that both men blushed and looked rather ashamed of themselves.

"I hope that our little chat has cleared a few things up for you both. I trust that you will get together and discuss the syllabus for the various classes? Good. And another thing, Harry," he called to Harry, who was walking away," don't forget our meeting tonight. Remind Draco, too." Harry nodded in response and left the room

"That should be all, Sirius. Now let us go down to the Great Hall for lunch. I'm feeling rather peckish."

*

A few years previously...

The passage down to the dungeon was low, so low that he had to walk bent-double. It was hardly even a passage, more of a natural tunnel. It even had stalactites hanging from the rough ceiling, further impairing walking. It seemed as though someone had gone a long way to make the destination unreachable. He had already seen a large serpent (sleeping, thankfully) and a flock of bats, and wondered what was coming next. As though the tunnel had read his mind, he heard a piercing whistle. Instinctively, he ducked. The as he looked up, he was very glad that he had. Embedded in the left-hand wall was a row of daggers, and to his right were a row of dagger-shaped holes. What's next, he thought, rolling boulders? Luckily, this time the tunnel did not answer his thoughts. It had begun to get higher, the ceiling had risen by at least a foot and gone were the stalactites. Instead of being made of rough earth and rocks, it seemed to be paved with faded yellow bricks. He remembered a story his muggle-born friend, Charles, had told him, about something odd called a film. It was a story with moving pictures about a girl who had to follow a yellow-brick road. This was similar, although it was a tunnel.

Octavian knew he was getting nearer now because the passage had taken on an eerie, green glow. As he turned a bend the air became cold, and flooded with the same green light, but much brighter this time. In the middle of all the green was a small, dark-wood door, flanked by large wooden torches, their glowing orange flames offsetting the emerald glare. This was it.

He took a small ring from the pocket of his cloak and pushed the top of it into a small gap above the handle where a keyhole would normally be. The door appeared to become partly liquid; it suddenly had the consistency of an invisibility cloak. He held his breath, closed his eyes and walked through it. It felt like being immersed in ice water, but it was soon over. When he reopened then, what he saw was not surprising. He was standing in a large but low-ceilinged room. In the middle of one of the walls, next to another door, was a grate in which a black fire was burning, but it gave off little heat. The room was ill lit, having only a few torches sparsely placed on the bare granite walls. The floor was also stone, but there was an odd blue rug on the hearth. In the centre of the room stood a circle of maybe twelve people, with one man in the middle. The central figure was dressed in a long black coat that did a poor job of disguising his emaciated body. He wore a matching hood, giving him a Dementor-like appearance. With one long, white, spindly finger he beckoned to Octavian, and the circle widened, leaving enough space for one man. Octavian entered the circle, showing no caution, and approached the cloaked figure.

"Welcome," he said, in a voice unusually high for a man (which he obviously was). "How very glad we are that you decided to join us, that you answered our invitation, I will not be so naïve as to presume that I need an introduction. You have passed through the Tunnel of Courage, and in doing so you have proven yourself. I have just one question. Will you join us fully, in body and in soul? Are you willing to open your heart and your mind to evil, to let its phenomenal powers flow always through your veins? Are you willing to serve me for all your mortal life, and after that?" Octavian did not wince or cringe at this address, and neither did his voice quaver as he said, "I am." The cloaked man seized him by the left arm and pulled him over to the fire, where he was forced to kneel on the blue mat as his forearm was thrust into the black flames. He felt a searing pain as the Dark Mark was burnt into his arm, but instead of the pain subsiding when his arm was removed, it continued, growing in strength. He glanced at his arm, and saw not only the black skull with its serpent tongue staring up at him, but something else. There was a red welt around his wrist, a welt that was bubbling with pus and bodily fluid. One of the other men in the circle took something that looked like a manacle, but with thick spikes on the inside rim, and clamped it around Octavian's wounded wrist. He knew better than to cry out and his gaze did not falter.

"Now you are truly one of us. Not just a Death-Eater, but also one of my Elite, The Molten Silver. You, and those who now encircle you, are marked by your wristbands. They infuse your blood with molten metal, hencethe name. Unfortunately it is no longer molten silver, as precious metals are now harder to come by that ever, but a lead and iron alloy. The burning metal that is now your blood means that you will never be entirely free of pain until death, but the benefits far outweigh this sacrifice. For one, you can never truly go over to the side of good. You can pretend, lie and even fool the most skilled legilimens, but never truly be good. The power you are part of, 'evil' as it is called by the weak, embodies you. It is your bloodsource, and is what sustains you, keeps you alive. You need it to live and can never fully turn your back to it. The bracelet is also enchanted to make it easier for me to contact you. Do not be afraid, Octavian, the choice you have made is the right one."

"I am not afraid," Octavian replied, "I was born to serve you. It is as much in my blood as is your alloy. My grandfather, Lucius, pledged the same to you as I have, his soul, and I am following him in the noble tradition he has laid down. I have only one request from you. My father ignored his destiny. Make sure he is punished."

"He will be punished soon enough. I think that is all the business we have tonight. You may all go." One by one, the men of the circle left through the door closest to the fire. When Octavian went through it he was surprised to find himself back in the library of his house, where he promptly fainted.