1975

Chapter I - The Death Eaters

The fifth year Slytherins were a strange bunch, people said. They were very unlike each other, ranging from Severus Snape, whom nobody liked, to Kenneth Avery, whom no one had ever disliked. Nonetheless, they stuck together with unlikely consequences.

No one could forget the case of Hector Quimby. In the emotional aftermath of a Slytherin defeat, Quimby, a sixth year Slytherin, had shot off his mouth about "our lousy Mudblood Seeker." Half an hour later Quimby was in the hospital wing, cursed from behind by Roland Wilkes, despite Wilkes's pride in his aristocratic pure-blood heritage. Alison Howard might be Muggleborn, but she was also a fifth year Slytherin.

This solidarity led Severus Snape to believe that he could borrow a set of Potions notes from his classmates. Severus never took notes in Potions, a class in which he performed abysmally. He didn't lack the necessary talent. Potions simply failed to interest him. Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms were his fortes.

Florence Jorkins, however, stared blankly at him when he asked for the notes.

"No, Severus."

"No?"

"I'm studying them. Why don't you take your own notes?"

Severus shrugged and turned to Melania Frost.

"Melania?" he began.

Melania shook her head. "You can't see my notes. I've written tons of personal stuff between the procedures and recipes." Florence glared at her and turned back to studying.

Severus went down to the fifth year boys' dormitory, resolved to fail tomorrow's Potions quiz with stoicism. Cheating was no longer an option, ever since Professor Meander found out about the quills.

He and Lestrange had enchanted two of Meander's quills before the latest quiz to impart the contents of their notes to their parchments. Unfortunately, Lestrange's quill had accidentally ended up with that Gryffindor numskull, Pettigrew, who proceeded to ace the quiz. Lestrange had scraped a six. Severus resisted the temptation of scoring a perfect nine, broke his quill after a while, and wrote the rest of the quiz with an ordinary one, taking a respectable seven point five. As a result, Pettigrew was fingered by Meander as the cheater, and his friends were under heavy suspicion of having made the quill for him. Severus felt no qualms about the affair, but Meander was now on the warpath. A would-be cheater faced an uncertain future.

Standing outside the door of his dormitory, he groaned. He could hear Rodolphus Lestrange telling the story inside to the other boys. A mistake. Evan Rosier sounded furious to be left out of it.

"A couple of backstabbers, both of you," he was saying.

"There must be some sacrifices made, Evan," said Severus, entering the room. "It pained me we couldn't include you. Much too suspicious."

Evan sniffed.

"Rodolphus, you needn't have told them," continued Severus. "Whenever will you learn discretion?"

Rodolphus looked non-plussed. "Evan'll get over it. And Rolly and Ken think it's funny."

"Nasty shock for Pettigrew," Kenneth Avery said reflectively.

"You feel sorry for Pettigrew, don't you, Ken?" Evan grinned.

"It seems a little hard..." Kenneth said hesitantly.

Severus gave him a look and he shut up.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" asked Rolly.

"How come we never do anything but play exploding Snap?" complained Kenneth.

"Yes, let's play Quidditch," Evan jumped up.

"No good," said Severus. "Gryffindor's booked the pitch."

"Right," Evan yawned and sat down again. "Kenneth and I have detention tonight."

"Again?" Severus asked. "Filch has it in for you."

"Not Filch. Longbottom. Magic in the corridors."

"Lockhart shows off in the corridors and gets away scot-free," said Kenneth bitterly.

"Is it true he resorts to Muggle sleight-of-hand to do his stuff?" Rolly asked curiously.

"Judging by his Transfiguration marks, yes," said Rodolphus.

There was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" called Evan.

"Crouch, Barty Crouch. I have a message for you."

"Come in!"

A small boy with freckled pale skin and tousled blond hair entered the room. Bartemius Crouch Jr. was twelve and somewhat in awe of the older Slytherins.

"Longbottom wants to speak with you, Snape," he said breathlessly, then tacked on, "If you please. He's in the common room."

"Certainly. I could be studying for my exam, but if Longbottom wants to speak with me, I'll come."

The other boys snickered.

The common room was full of students doing revision. Frank Longbottom, the Slytherin prefect, was sitting alone at a table covered with scrolls of parchment.

"Ah, Severus!" he said warmly. "I just need a minute of your time."

"What's Longbottom up to?" asked Rodolphus, who had followed Severus downstairs.

"Evaluations, I think," said Florence Jorkins. "Explaining how you've lived up to his standards over the last few months, and what he expects of you from now on. He takes being a prefect very seriously, you know."

"Very Longbottom," said Rodolphus. "Have you seen Alison?"

"No, not since Charms."

"Oh." He looked around the room vaguely. "I wonder where she could be?"

"Missing your sweetheart after so long a separation?"

Rodolphus was taken aback.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "But all you do is follow her about all day." Alison Howard was Florence's best friend, and Florence certainly would never wish Alison ill, but Florence never could forget that her plainness apparently made her worthless in the eyes of boys.

"You're quite forgiven," said Rodolphus seriously.

Florence glared. Before the conversation could slide further downhill, the common room door swung open and Alison Howard stepped in.

"Alison," said Longbottom, looking up at the sound of the door. "I need to speak with you. As soon as Severus and I have finished up."

Alarm appeared on Alison's face.

"Evaluations," said Rodolphus quickly.

"Oh." The frown was replaced by her usual winning smile. "Rodolphus, Florence, will you come down to the library with me? I've something to show you."

"I'm studying for Potions, Alison," said Florence. "You should be too."

"I doubt it'll help any at this point," said Alison drily. "It can only get more confusing."

"You can't afford to do poorly in Potions. Not if..." Florence stopped short, looking to Rodolphus.

"Not if you want to be an Auror," finished up Rodolphus. "Yes, you'd best study, Alison."

"Later," said Alison, brushing the comment aside.

"Well, I'm studying now," said Florence.

"Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus would have followed Alison to the gates of Hades, if asked,

"Alison. Alison Howard," called Longbottom after her, as she and Rodolphus went to the door. "I need to talk to you."

"I'll be back in a second," said Alison. They left the common room, Longbottom scowling in their wake.

In a darkish corner of a library, Alison knelt down, reached behind the books on the shelf, and pulled out a book, which she handed to Rodolphus.

"Moste Potente Potions," Rodolphus read the title. "Why isn't this in the restricted section?"

"I don't know," said Alison. "I didn't dare to check it out. I'm sure Madam Pince would send it back to restricted."

"Yes, she would," said Rodolphus, examining a particularly gruesome illustration. "Is there anything in here that wouldn't send us to Azkaban?"

"I thought Polyjuice..."

"No good. You need boomslang skin. Even Meander doesn't have a supply."

"There isn't any lying about the Lestrange estate?"

Rodolphus considered this. "Well, there might be. I'm not entirely sure my father would send us some...What did you want me to do with this book?"

"I don't know," Alison said, turning her attention back to the book. "Look at this. A spell to bring back the dead. What's the point of that? We don't need to bring the dead back here, they're all over the place." She cast a glance at Madam Pince shushing Nearly Headless Nick as he helped a few second year Gryffindors with an essay.

"I wonder if you'll ever catch up with the wizarding world."

"I do try my best," said Alison lightly, "but if you keep me in the dark, I'll never do it."

"When a wizard dies, he can either go on, or he can hang on to life, like Sir Nicholas over there."

"Why would Nick hang onto life?" asked Alison.

"I don't know," said Rodolphus. "If anyone could ever sort it out for him, he could stop hanging on."

"All the ghosts have something more to do before they really die?"

"That's a way of putting it. What some have to do is realize they can't do anymore. I'm beginning to suspect that's the Fat Friar's problem. One day some Hufflepuff prefect will have a flash of inspiration and release him."

"Muggles believe that," said Alison thoughtfully.

"Really? I hadn't thought they believed in ghosts."

"I've always believed in ghosts."

"Why? Don't the Muggles refuse to believe in such things?"

"Sometimes." She was feeling very uncomfortable. Discussions about the Muggle world always did this to her. Muggles seemed a different species then. She returned her attention to a page of the book. A Potione To Force The Hearte's Consente. No, this definitely shouldn't be lying around for students to pick up.

Rodolphus watched her, beginning to think seriously. On a personal level, the fact that she was Muggleborn didn't matter to him. But blood mattered everywhere else.

Quimby had made the comment, though he had apologized profusely after he had come back from the hospital wing. And there had been a murmur of approval when he had said it.

Alison hadn't batted an eyelid.

* * * * * * * * *

In public, Alison hadn't batted an eyelid. In her dormitory, on Hallowe'en, she had dissolved into tears and wished she had never been sorted into Slytherin.

"But you're a perfect Slytherin," Melania Frost had said, looking for a handkerchief to give her.

Alison took the handkerchief and impatiently wiped her face "I don't fit in here," she said almost matter-of-factly, but then began to weep again.

"Stop sounding like a bloody Valeria Niggleby novel," said Florence Jorkins.

Melania frowned. A set of Valeria Niggleby romances covered the shelves between her and Alison's bed.

"We're missing the party for your sake, Alison," said Florence calmly. "You can return the favour by being less weepy. How hard is it to understand that people are prejudiced?"

Alison muttered something that sounded like Salazar Slytherin.

"Badmouthing our dear old founder?"

"Salazar Slytherin hated Muggleborns," said Alison. "That's fact."

"Salazar Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, under very different circumstances. Most of what we know of him belongs to the realms of myth and legend. Or haven't you been listening to Professor Binns?"

Melania shook her head vigorously.

"Still, Flo, I don't understand anti-Muggle prejudice," she said. "Muggles are really quite fascinating. I've made Alison promise to show me around Muggle London over Christmas. You should come too."

Melania was the only fifth year Slytherin taking Muggle studies.

"No thank you," said Florence. "I'm looking forward to a quiet Christmas at home. But about anti-Muggle prejudice.... There is some reason to be prejudiced. If magic were out in the open, the Muggles would learn how to control it."

"How?" asked Melania, astonished. "Electricity's not a match for magic."

"Magic is a part of the physical world. It could be controlled, like anything else the Muggles set their minds to controlling?" said Florence.

"They don't say that in Muggle Studies," Melania objected.

"The Muggle Studies textbooks are hopelessly out of date," said Alison. "You're right, Flo. There are plenty of reasons to fear the Muggle world. "Wizards still haven't got themselves involved in anything as horrible as the last world war."

"I try to defend your world, and this is what I get," said Melania, in mock annoyance.

"My world?" said Alison. "After I leave Hogwarts, I don't mean to return there."

"Your parents!" Melania protested.

"I'll keep in touch with them," Alison said. "I wish I came from a family like yours."

"You're always welcome over the summer," said Melania awkwardly. "You too, Flo."

It was a serious invitation, but Melania knew that Florence would eventually decline. She would feel that she was being asked out of pity, and claim that she preferred to stay home to read and garden. Then again, that might well be the truth. Either way, Melania was sure Florence would never marry.

Melania was steadily occupied in marrying off her classmates. She planned to marry right out of Hogwarts, herself, though she hadn't yet found a prospective husband. Yet she felt sure of Alison and Rodolphus, was maneuvering to pair her roommate Julian Tierney with Rolly Wilkes, and had several other tantalizing prospects before her.

To her mind, there was nothing unusual in marrying at eighteen. Was there anything more pressing to do?

Melania was not the frivolous butterfly some of the Gryffindor girls made her out to be. She really was looking for a husband, at the tender age of fifteen, which was why she had chucked Sirius Black after two weeks of closer acquaintance. He had thought he had found someone to kiss from time to time. She had decided that his character flaws would make him incapable of raising children. Neither heart was particularly broken when she told him it was off.

Such incidents built up the legend of Melania Frost, the ice-cold Slytherin enchantress who brewed love potions in her dormitory, and toyed with the hearts of men.

* * * * * * * *

While young love occupied the attention of many of his classmates, Kenneth Avery felt nothing but guilt. He wished that Severus and Rodolphus had never told their story to him.

Pettigrew's detentions were a joke, of course. Filch had never succeeded in scaring anyone but the first years. But Ken had heard the Howler Pettigrew's father had sent him. He had laughed with the rest of the Slytherins about it. Now that he knew whose handiwork the cheating was, however, it wasn't funny anymore. It was awful to think about it.

"AND IF YOU THINK YOU'RE COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS AFTER THIS, YOU MIGHT LOOK TO CONJURING UP SOME BRAINS, INSTEAD OF CHARMING EXAM QUILLS!!"

About eight o'clock, Evan and Ken went up to Filch's office for detention. Pettigrew was also there, serving his one-month detention. Ken's heart sank when he and Pettigrew were assigned to clean up a mess in the Potions classroom, while Evan was put to work in the library under Madam Pince's supervision.

"The teachers treat detentions as a source of slave labour," complained Pettigrew, after Filch had left him and Kenneth alone.

"What's happened in here?"

"I heard Bertha Jorkins messed up a potion. I know she's in the hospital wing," said Pettigrew.

"Florence didn't say anything about it."

"I don't think they're particularly close."

They cleaned in silence. Ordinarily, the ever-amiable Avery would have chatted with Pettigrew, but today Pettigrew's presence made him sick.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" asked Pettigrew eventually.

"Yes," Ken bit down on his tongue, about to say Of course.

"Well then," said Pettigrew. "I'm going to be visiting. I'm coming down for Christmas with Sirius. So you'll be seeing me then."

Relief washed over Kenneth. The Blacks and the Averys had always been on very good terms. In fact, before Hogwarts, Ken and Sirius had been best friends. Being sorted into Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses respectively had put a damper on the friendship. Still, the Black children would be sent to the Avery household for the week after Christmas, as they always had been.

So, Pettigrew would be with Sirius this year. The idea of Pettigrew staying by himself at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays had depressed Kenneth. This news was a godsend.

On the other hand, being on close confines with Pettigrew would be difficult. What was it that made him long to blab everything Severus and Rodolphus had told him? A conscience? He'd better work on stifling it.

* * * * * * * *

They had drawn the curtains, locked the door, and extinguished the candles. Three of the boys sat tensely on their beds, waiting for the other two to finish something on the floor. Then, suddenly, they had light. A fire was burning on unscorched floor, showing the faces of Severus and Rodolphus. Bright orange flames leapt into the air, giving off no heat.

"Very nice," said Rolly, getting off his bed, and sitting down by the fire. "Is this for show or is it part of something else?"

"It's nice enough for show," said Rodolphus. "We have more important business tonight. We have to decide whether to induct two new members to our select group."

"New members?" asked Rolly.

"Yes. There are two who would join us."

"Rodolphus, Severus. I don't understand," said Evan. "I thought this was our own private group. And now we're inviting... whoever else in?"

Severus's cold eyes glittered. "Evan Rosier, are you under the illusion that this is a children's club, meant to entertain us when there's no Quidditch?"

"No, it's serious enough, but it still is a sort of club."

"Do you remember why we founded it?" pressed Severus.

"Because Defense against the Dark Arts is a useless subject," replied Evan.

"Therefore, we are much more than a students' secret club. Much much more. You have signed your names in blood, not as a joke, but to bind us magically together in our pursuit of forbidden but important knowledge." Kenneth shivered. "Now, two more have come to join us in our aim, and you pretend our aim is dormitory socialization?"

"Who is it wants to join?" asked Rolly.

"Florence Jorkins and Alison Howard," said Rodolphus.

"Girls?" said Evan, and then blushed. The others struggled to keep their faces straight.

"Are you sure they'll be all right?" asked Rolly.

"Yes," said Severus. "I am sure."

"I don't want to be an annoyance," said Evan, "but this is a boys' dormitory. How do you propose to hold meetings?" To Severus's disgust, the others burst out laughing.

"They'll be all wrapped up," said Rodolphus. "And they'll be careful. We'll keep a watch out for Longbottom."

"So do you agree on this?" asked Severus.

"Well, we're not being given much of a choice," said Rolly. "If we don't agree, you'll throw a temper tantrum, Severus." He laughed a little. "No, bring them in." He walked over to the wardrobe, and took out a long cloak, which he proceeded to wrap himself in, pulling a hood over his face. The others followed his example. Then Rodolphus left the room to fetch the two new members.

A minute later, they entered, their faces also hidden under hoods.

"Florence Jorkins, do you wish to become a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"Alison Howard, do you wish to become a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

Severus did not overdo it on the ceremony. He merely brought out a piece of parchment, and said, "These are the names of the loyal Death Eaters: Severus Snape, Rodolphus Lestrange, Kenneth Avery, Roland Wilkes, Evander Rosier." Five minutes later, two more names: Florence Jorkins and Alison Howard were signed to the list in their bearers' blood.