The Uprising

The Uprising

Chapter two: New Beginnings

Draco was walking down a very long, dim-lighted, and cold corridor. He was about to meet the Dark Lord himself about becoming a Death Eater. I wonder what I will have to do. Will I be tested? I will have to look and remain as emotionless as possible. Father shall be very pleased if I prove as strong as he is...

As soon as he reached the thick and rusty door at the end of the corridor, he grasped the snake knocker and managed to pound two firm and strong knocks. He was nervous, but knew he must stay calm and courageous.

He heard a creak as the door slowly opened, and was soon face-to-face with a hooded and masked man, with liquid black eyes. He walked into a huge and also dim-lighted room, with a big chair that resembled a throne, with a blood-red cushion and back, and a dark and sleek-painted desk in front of it. The fireplace behind it was dimming, and the kindling was fading out. Next to the fireplace stood a tall but dark figured man, who had very pale fingers and shoulder-length black hair. As he turned, Draco saw what resembled a snake's face and knew instantly that he was looking at a sorcerer known as Lord Voldemort.

Draco squared his shoulders and walked with much prestige and dignity toward the terribly thin man. He got down to his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "My Lord...."he whispered into the cold and dark room.

"You may rise, young Malfoy." Lord Voldemort walked back to his throne-like chair and sat down.

"So you want to serve me, do you?" the high pitched cold voice asked with a tone of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, I have decided that after what that scar-headed, muggle-loving fool has done to both you and me, I would be best serving you and helping you defeat this muggle-polluted world, my Lord." Draco answered with as much courage and strength he could summon, but still with a dominant and strong voice.

"Well, I could always use a new servant, and your father, although a sycophant, a wonderful and loyal minion. Very well, Wormtail, please come over here." A stout man scurried over to the desk. "Arm, please," Voldemort commanded. Wormtail held out his left arm and rolled up the sleeve of the forearm. Voldemort touched the tattoo that looked like the Dark Mark with his index finger as it turned a deeper black than it had already been.

Almost instantly, what looked like hundreds of hooded and masked men and women Apparated into the room. No wonder this room is so huge, thought Draco, this must be the meeting room for all of them. They all bowed toward Voldemort instead of kissing his robes and murmured "My Lord."

"Today we have gained a follower, and I am giving him a special inducting ceremony in honor of his father who is a faithful servant of mine. Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco, will become one of the first and certainly not the last junior Death Eaters. Come over here, Draco."

Draco walked up to Lord Voldemort and stood still and firm like a statue. He knew he was about to face something, he didn't know what, but it was going to be big. He waited.

"Now to test your strength under-pressure. Crucio!" Voldemort said quickly and with a new, angry tone. A horrible piercing pain circulated throughout Draco's body, and he tried with the little strength he had to try not to scream, but it did not work. Every inch of his body was tingling with an afflicting ache that he squirmed like a caterpillar manically. After what seemed like forever, the pain slowly wavered away.

"Very good, for an inexperienced one. Don't you agree, Avery?"

"Yes, my Lord, h-he was v-very s-st-strong," stammered a tall and stocky man a meter away from Draco was on the ground cowering.

"I suggest that you do not stutter, answer me like a man, Avery! For your cowardice, Crucio!" The man started to quiver and twitch madly, even worse than Draco did. After a moment, he stopped and just curled up. "Now, let's try it again, I want you to tell me that even an unskilled boy can take pain better than you."

"He w-was very strong, my Lord, even more than me," Avery said practically whimpering. Draco found the strength to stand up, very slowly. He wanted to make sure that he proved as mighty as possible.

"You shall work on your insolence and leave, Avery; I am getting sick at the thought of having your arrogance plague my lair. Boy, come over here." Draco walked with as much prestige as he could summon out of himself. "Do you solemnly swear to put your life and honor to the good of my faithful Death Eaters?" Draco inclined his head trembling slightly. "Will you stay loyal to Lord Voldemort and the Dark forces at all costs? Even if it means abdicating your life?" Draco said with an adamant voice, "Yes, my Lord, I shall serve you at all costs."

"Then you will hold out your left hand." Draco did said command. Voldemort took it and rolled up the sleeve up to Draco's elbow and said assertively with his wand pointed just above Draco's wrist, "Blotchus." A burning sensation went into the spot that Voldemort's wand was pointed at. The next thing that Draco saw, the Dark Mark was forming on his arm.

Harry woke the next morning a little early, seeing how late he had gone to bed the night before. It was about 8:30, about the time that he and the Dursleys would breakfast. He quickly got up, dressed in his best jeans that he had just gotten from Aunt Petunia as "an early birthday gift." I have never gotten anything whatsoever from them, and now they are giving me clothes like I am Dudley or something. He appreciated what the Order did for him by "talking" to the Dursleys, but his life with them was now just a tad bit too odd. Every time he would enter the room they were in, they would hush like they were talking about him and be very quiet.

They were too afraid to give him any comments or tasks. They wouldn't bother punishing him to being out too late, or not doing any gardening in the back yard. They just didn't try to talk to him at all.

Harry quickly went down the stairs and walked into the kitchen with a huge yawn. When Aunt Petunia heard this, she got up hastily and said with a very anxious voice, "Happy Birthday, Harry. I made breakfast for you. Here, I hope you'll like it." Wow, she is actually civil toward me, Harry thought. I'm beginning to wonder if the Order jinxed them or something. He said a "thank you" and started to pick at his scrambled eggs.

"Well, Petunia, I am off to work now," Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Ok, dear, have a good day, then," Aunt Petunia answered with an odd, but cheerful voice. Now with Vernon gone, she and Harry were the only ones in the house, as Dudley had gone out with his friends. Probably to go terrorize more innocent little kids, thought Harry.

"Um, Harry, I was wondering if we could talk," Aunt Petunia said with an apprehensive look on her face.

"Look, Aunt Petunia, I enjoy the breakfast and all, but I just want to be left alone for a while. See, my friends are going to pick me up later, and I need to pack. But thanks--"

"It's about your mother and father, Harry. I know that you were wondering about how I got that--what was it you called it last summer? A hower? Anyway, I thought that you and I could clear a few things up for each other. When you were found on our doorstep, with you came a letter, as you already know. It said in that letter that you had of course as you know, defeated what is his name?"

"First off, are you sure that you want to talk about the "M" word and my mother? I don't mean to offend, but you are acting very strange."

"Yes, I am sure, Vernon isn't here, and I knew that there would come a time where you and I would have to discuss all of this. I have never acted very kindly to you, and that is a huge mistake on my part, especially as my duties to you as a surrogate mother and an aunt. This is all very new, but I have never been one to communicate well with others. And if you would try to give me another chance, we could maybe come to make a new start."

"Okay. Well, the letter that screamed at you is called a Howler. It is used in most occasions when someone is very angry at someone else. For example, I have a friend who, to make a long story short, used something that got him into trouble. When his mother heard about what happened, she sent him a Howler at my school, and it was everyone at breakfast heard it. The headmaster at my school sent you that Howler, he just recently told me. Although I don't know why, And he told me that when my mum died to save me, there was an ancient magic that helped me defeat the wizard"--Aunt Petunia winced at the mere word spoken, she was still skeptical about talking to him about magic--"and by staying with you, the ancient magic protects both of us from him and his followers."

"His name is Voldemort, right?" she asked with barely a whisper. "I know very little about him, but I overheard a conversation with your mother and father about him and his followers. Would you mind explaining a little more please?" she asked with as much prestige as she could handle without sounding stupid.

Harry explained to Aunt Petunia everything he knew about Lord Voldemort. Who he was, what he looked like, who and what were his followers, what his goals were. After about forty-five minutes, he finished his explanation with a bitter tone, and looked at a very horrified Aunt Petunia. She now understood the importance of taking care of Harry, and what happened to her sister. She had always sort of felt sorry for him, but she never dwelled on the idea. She had no idea how much he had gone through, and now that she did, she felt guilty for not caring.

She simply said, "Wow. I am truly sorry. What he did to you and your parents. I just hope I can make a new start. Well, I am going to leave you alone, but if you want to ever talk, you can owl me or come see me. Go pack now."

Harry trudged upstairs with a very strange feeling. He had just opened up to Aunt Petunia of all people, and although he hadn't gotten any information about his parents from her, he knew that it would be explained to him in good time. He felt as if a very heavy load had been lifted off of him. He never saw that side of Aunt Petunia, the one where she was caring, but he also knew that she felt a little guilty for the way she had treated him over his time with them. He knew that there was more to her than meets the eye when it came to her communications with the wizarding world, but he wasn't about to question her. He would find out sooner or later about her motives.

He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon packing, as he couldn't use magic. When he finished, he sat on his bed and waited. After a half an hour, a CRACK filled the room, and Remus Lupin Apparated into Harry's room.

"Hello Harry, time to go. I see you have gotten everything ready, so come on, let me help you with your trunk, we will have to carry it all the way to Mrs. Figg's house without magic."

"Why are we going to Mrs. Figg's house?" Harry asked, as he was totally oblivious to how they were going to travel to Grimmauld Place. He had his broom, but the sun was still out, so they couldn't travel that way.

"We managed to get Mrs. Figg's fireplace connected to the Floo Network, so we're going to Floo to Headquarters. Now come on, we don't have much time."