Born Under A Bad Sign

Born Under A Bad Sign

Chapter 11: Strange Days

By Peeler

Lots of people don't like dedications, but I'm putting one anyway: for my former Beta, SlytherinGoddess, who is no longer able to proof due to circumstances beyond her control. Bye, SG!

Strange days have found us
Strange days have tracked us down
They're going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town

Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it

Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone

- Jim Morrison, The Doors

October 17^th, Knockturn Alley, Midnight

"Liam, we should not be meeting here. It is far too open, and with the curfew-" Amanita Lestrange´s voice shook angrily.

"Calm down, Amanita," responded Liam Avery. "No respectable officer of the law would come into Knockturn Alley in the dead of night. And in times such as these, even if they did they would certainly not make it out alive."

"I still don´t see why we couldn´t meet at the castle. It is foolhardy to be so careless with the Minister and Dumbledore hunting us down like so much wild game."

"What is foolhardy, Amanita," said Avery, his voice rising ever so slightly, "is to think that because the Ministry has finally awoken, we are defeated! The Dark Lord planned for this...he wants this! Let our people think there is a battle. Let the mudbloods scurry for cover, let their foolish allies fight! We have the means to score a resounding blow, for pureblooded witches and wizards, not only in Britain but in all the western world!"

"I am our Lord´s right hand, Avery!" snapped Lestrange. "I do not need you spouting propaganda that I wrote back at me! Say what you will, we do not roam free as we once did. The Aurors are still strong, and they hate us with every fiber of their being. This is a war, not a game, and every one of our people who dies leaves a place that is not filled! We will be cautious. We strike like the serpent on our banner: silent, swift and deadly. Headstrong foolishness will not be tolerated, even from you."

"You would do well to show me some respect, Lestrange," Avery shot back with a scowl. "Were it not for me, the Auror´s College would be standing. Were it not for me, our forces would be even less than they are now. Were it not for me, we would not even possess the power we have in our grasp now! If anything, it is I who do not need to tolerate you!"

"Don´t forget, Avery, that any imbecile could have been sent to do your duties. You accomplished nothing more or less than our Lord´s will, as we all do. If you want to continue talking, you may return to our fortress and speak to me there. You are a fool to mention what you have in the open, and an even greater one to demand respect of your superiors. You receive only what you have gained. I will be telling Lord Voldemort of your...choices tonight. If you will not respect me, you may give your report to him personally, and I assure you he will not be pleased." Lestrange Disapparated, leaving a hole in the air.

"Damn that woman!" said Avery loudly into the blackness of the night.

That Morning, At Hogwarts

Draco rubbed his bleary eyes as he downed his coffee. The great hall was packed with people wearing their house colours; it was only a few minutes until Slytherin´s first Quidditch match of the season, versus Ravenclaw. Draco stared across the hall at Cho Chang, who was deep in discussion with her team captain. He jumped as Tia Baddock snapped her fingers next to his ear.

"Draco! Team meeting down by the pitch, we´re talking game strategy." Draco rose without objection and followed, still rubbing his eyes. In about five minutes the rest of the team trooped into the changing room for the meeting.

"Alright team," said Tia. "I know you all want to play Gryffindor, but we don´t play them until May. On the bright side, we have two games to build up our lead. Ravenclaw played a finesse game two years ago, but we don´t know exactly how they´re playing today. We have stronger Beaters, which should allow us to beat up on their Chasers a fair amount. Plus, our better brooms negate any speed advantage they might have had over us. Oh, and remember to play up the psychological stuff. A few penalties can be worthwhile to put them off their game. Let´s go!"

The Slytherin team trooped out onto the pitch into the grey October morning. The Ravenclaws were already there, lined up and ready. Madam Hooch ordered Tia to shake hands with Roger Davies, and the teams took their positions opposite each other. Hooch blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle into the air as cheering resounded from the crowd of students.

Davies, who had been scowling unpleasantly ever since Draco had seen him in the great hall, took the Quaffle and twirled underneath Julia, who cursed and pursued. As Davies drew near the goal, he was forced to stop to avoid a Bludger and one of the Slytherin Chasers stole the Quaffle.

"Don´t watch the game, Malfoy, look for the Snitch!" snapped Julia as the Chasers worked their way quickly up the pitch. Draco obligingly stopped following the Chasers and tailed Cho closely.

"Bugger off, Malfoy!" she shouted as Lee Jordan regretfully announced a Slytherin goal. Due to his teammates´ admonishments to pay attention to Cho, Draco didn´t have the opportunity to watch the game´s progression and had to listen to Jordan´s biased commentary to keep up.

"Ravenclaw works their way back up field, but loses the Quaffle again...oh, hold on, Hammond´s been given a penalty for skinning away from the play...Davies forward to take the shot, and yes! He beats Baddock. Slytherin takes it away, broken up by a Bludger, but Baddock recovers. Long attempt by Warrington stopped..."

Draco tuned out the commentary as he saw Cho cut back quickly underneath him. She was dropping quickly towards the pitch surface near the stands, but Draco´s Nimbus 2003 closed the distance quickly, and he could see the Snitch zipping along next to the ground where the wall met the pitch. Cho, flying at a better angle than he was, cut the distance back again, but pulled back as a Bludger flew past and bounced off the wall. Draco dodged madly and caught his arm in a Ravenclaw banner made from a bed sheet; in his attempt to stay on his broom the Snitch vanished.

"Well, that was certainly exciting!" said Lee Jordan, "but the Snitch seems to have gone. Slytherin leads it 50-20 now, but here comes Davies again, with the Quaffle..."

"Damn!" snarled Draco. Cho came up behind him and laughed.

"Smooth flying, Malfoy. You looking to swipe a couple of bed sheets or what?"

"I wouldn´t talk Chang, you´re losing," shot back Draco. "Your dear deceased boyfriend must be turning over in his grave."

"How dare you mention Cedric, you evil little snot-" shouted Cho, flying dangerously close, but Draco cut her off.

"Hey, I don´t really mind, though. Just one less guy to compete with me. I mean, I must really be the best looking guy in the school by now." Montague flashed past with the Quaffle, Roger Davies in pursuit. "Arienne certainly thinks so!" shouted Draco loudly. Davies stuck out an elbow suddenly as he went past, catching Draco in the side and sending him spinning away.

"Cobbing!" shouted Madam Hooch, blowing her whistle shrilly. "Penalty to Slytherin!"

"Damn it Roger, what´d you do that for?" bellowed Lee Jordan.

As Julia made the penalty, Cho and Roger still looked grimly satisfied. But as Draco turned a wide circle above the pitch he saw a glint back near the Slytherin goals; he stopped tailing Cho and began drifting back. When she turned away to dodge a Bludger, Draco turned fully and took off full speed towards the Snitch. Cho was in hot pursuit, but Draco was pulling away until a Ravenclaw Chaser pulled up directly in front of him and he was forced to dodge rather viciously, allowing Cho to pull alongside. The Snitch, as if sensing capture, flashed back the other way, and the two Seekers turned sharply after it, low to the ground and gaining. A Ravenclaw beater, unable to find a Bludger nearby, threw her club at Draco but missed. Cho was falling behind again, and as the Snitch crossed midfield, Draco took a hand off his broom and snatched it up by one wing. Just in time, too: Roger Davies cruised into his side at full speed and knocked them both to the ground. Draco´s head snapped back and hit the grassy pitch hard. As he struggled to maintain consciousness he heard Davies and Madam Hooch arguing.

"Davies! The game was over already, what do you think you´re playing at?"

"I´m sorry, Madam Hooch, I was flying to fast to stop quickly. It was an accident." The voices faded out, and Draco´s vision ceased briefly. The next thing he knew, he was being propped up by his teammates.

"Bloody great flying, Draco," said Tia.

"Nice insults and such too," put in Julia. "And if that was an accident at the end, I´ll eat my owl. We should get them back somehow." Draco mused.

"I know just the way," he said, still rubbing his head as he walked unsteadily back to the common room. "We have a party and don´t invite them."

Heading back to the dungeons for his Potions work after lunch, Draco heard something else pleasant: Arienne shouting at Roger Davies somewhere nearby.

"I never thought, at this time last year, I´d like Draco Malfoy better than you!"

"What I can´t believe," snapped Davies, "is that you can even tolerate that evil Slytherin bastard! If you´d heard what he´d said-"

"I would´ve ignored it! He was just trying to get to you, you didn´t have to try to kill him! You´re a petty little fool, Roger Davies."

"Better a petty fool than a Death Eater lover," hissed Davies.

"Well, you can just go fuck yourself, Roger" snapped Arienne sharply.

"I´d rather fuck myself than I would Malfoy, and I guess I figured you thought the same. Go have an evil little Slytherin orgy if that´s what you want. And don´t talk to me again."

Draco chuckled as he reached the portrait-hole and muttered the password, `Lotus´. Blaise was scribbling something on a piece of parchment.

"Finish your Potions work?" he asked as Draco entered.

"Yeah, it´s in the dorm. You´re going to have to write quick if you want to copy, class starts in five minutes." Draco had retrieved his essay on the uses of St. John the Conqueror Root from his bed-table when he noticed a letter on his bed. He picked it up to see the wax seal take the form of the Dark Mark, and quickly tucked it into his pocket to read later. Returning to the common room, he showed Blaise his essay before heading off to Potions.

The Same Day: The Ministry of Magic, Diagon Alley

A fanfare of trumpets sounded as the senior Ministry officials arrived at the mostly-repaired Ministry building accompanied by an honour guard of Aurors. The still fire-blackened building was hung with banners of purple and gold for the ceremony acknowledging the re-occupation of the Ministry, as ordered by Minister Fudge in a show of solidarity. The press was on hand in large numbers as Fudge´s press secretary took the podium set up on the Ministry steps.

"Minister Fudge is en route by portkey, accompanied by Commander. Amanda Conneley of the Aurors and Minister of Defense and Security Ernest Chapman." As the secretary finished, the three leaders appeared behind him. The Aurors stood at attention as Fudge took the podium.

"Fellow Ministry workers, Aurors, ladies and gentlemen of the press, thank you for being here today. It was scarcely more than a month ago that the building behind me was the target of a vicious and unwarranted attack by violent forces opposed to order and government in magical Britain. But in that time, we have come together as a nation, to fight against the forces of darkness, rising above fear to lead our lives as usual. The recent declaration of the State of Emergency has given our foes pause, and has given us hope. That is why I am here, with the Minister of Defense and Commander. Conneley, to rededicate the Ministry building for use once more. These three different aspects of our government: the Ministry, MLES, and Aurors, have come together in a show of solidarity to fight the power of You-Know-Who and to ensure that we go on with our lives as we always have. Thank you." Along with Conneley and Chapman, Fudge turned and entered the Ministry, accompanied by another fanfare.

Hogwarts

Unable to read his letter during potions, Draco instead read the Daily Prophet while waiting for he and Crabbe´s Conniption Concoction to boil. Under a long article on the Ministry rededication were two more pieces of Death Eater-related news.

"Captured Death Eater kills one guard, injures four before turning wand on self," read Draco to Crabbe. "Nicholas Bryant, one of the Death Eaters captured after the Ministry attack, was able to acquire a security guard´s wand at the high-security facility he was being held at. He proceeded to use the Robbanto Curse, killing guard Andrew Jenkins outright and wounding three others nearby with shrapnel. When cornered by guards, he put the Cruciatus curse on one before killing himself with Avada Kedavra. Jenkins leaves behind a wife and six-year-old son. The Death Eater, Bryant, is survived by his sister, who is serving overlapping ten-year terms in Azkaban for trafficking in illegal substances." Draco stopped and looked at Crabbe, who was stirring the potion.

"Good on him," he muttered, poking at a lump of something in the cauldron. Draco continued to a different article.

"Department of Mysteries confirms explosion at research facility. The Department of Mysteries, always true to its name, confirmed rumours that an explosion took place at a facility, causing three deaths and several injuries, but refused to give any more details. Blah, blah...why does the Prophet always suck?"

"I dunno," said Crabbe, "I never read it. Takes too long."

"Bah, I don´t know why I asked you anyway. When you see books you turn and run," replied Draco. "Actually it´s more of a waddle. Keep stirring that."

Across the room Neville´s cauldron was spitting out scalding pine nuts at him and his partner, Dean, who responded by hiding under a table. Snape, who had been helping Blaise and Millicent Bulstrode, sighed deeply.

"Granger, please keep Longbottom from killing anyone while I instruct those students there is still hope for." There was a rumble of dissatisfaction from the Gryffindor tables, but Snape ignored it and continued to work with the Slytherins. The alarm spell Draco had set went off, telling him to take the cauldron off of the heat. Crabbe sprinkled a bit of sugar into it as it cooled, and Snape came by to give them full marks, as usual. After class ended, Draco couldn´t resist gloating a little over Slytherin´s Quidditch victory.

"See the match, Potter?" he said pleasantly. "I don´t suppose you thought to take any notes?"

"I would´ve, if I fancied getting tangled up in a banner, Malfoy," returned Harry sharply.

"Ah well, it paid off in the end," said Draco.

"Cho told me what you said, you heartless bastard," shot Harry.

"Oh, so now we´re nice and chummy with the Ravenclaw Seeker, eh Potter? Don´t spend too long staring at her during your match, she´s got some nice moves- among other things."

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Harry.

"Oh, right, you´re a Gryffindor. I suppose you like her for her personality?" shot back Draco. "With any luck you´ll follow in Diggory´s footsteps." Harry goggled at him.

"What?"

"Er, that came out wrong. I meant with relation to the Dark Lord, not to Chang." Harry´s eyes narrowed.

"Why, you insufferable- I don´t understand how you can be so cold about Cedric? Don´t you care that a boy is dead?"

"No, not really. You´d be surprised how easy it is. I doubt you´d feel that bad if Crabbe died, Potter, I just feel that way towards pretty much everyone. Diggory was weak, now he´s dead. Doesn´t concern me." Draco shrugged.

"You know," said Harry, "I thought maybe your father dying might improve you, but it´s only made you worse. I´ll wager you´re getting really friendly with his old mates, hmm? You´re probably happy he´s gone."

"I can´t say I´m not," responded Draco. "After all, the will´s made out to me. And if I were a Death Eater, you´d be the last person to hear of it, I guarantee." Harry made a face.

"You know, Malfoy, I´ve never met a more messed up person than you in my life. Fuck you." As Harry said this, Ron, who had been clearing their workspace, interrupted.

"Come on, Harry, let´s go, or we´ll be late for Divination."

"Oh, hello Weasley," said Draco brightly. "Heard from dear Percy recently?"

"Shut your smug face, Malfoy," said Ron, wand quickly in hand.

"Ron, you´re right, let´s go," said Harry, tugging on his arm.

"I wouldn´t try it, Weasley," said Draco after him down the corridor. "I´m a man of few words. One of them starts with `A´, the other with `K´." Luckily for Draco, Ron didn´t seem to hear. Someone else, however, did; Snape clutched Draco´s shoulder as he turned to go.

"Just a moment, master Malfoy. If I heard correctly, you just threatened Weasley with the killing curse."

"It may have sounded like that, Professor, but-" Snape cut Draco off.

"Do not interrupt me. I was saying, understandable as the wish to be rid of Potter and Weasley may be, threatening a fellow student with an Unforgivable Curse is not acceptable under any situation, especially with times as they are. As your head of house, I will assign you a detention, and I will have to report your words to the Headmaster. He may well wish to speak with you."

"But Professor-" Snape did not pause.

"This punishment is extremely lenient, Malfoy. Things are on edge around here already, although you may not have noticed; four students have lost family members. I will let you know that the faculty is certain beyond a reasonable doubt that at least one student is actively involved with the Death Eaters. If you persist in such behaviour, I would not be surprised at all if the Aurors got involved." Draco grimaced.

"I am sorry, Professor. We had a rather heated exchange, I suppose I over-reacted."

"High emotions can lead one to speak a concealed truth, Malfoy. From personal experience, I can tell you that the Aurors are not pleasant, and not to be trifled with. You may go." Snape turned back to the Potions classroom, where a group of third-year Hufflepuffs had congregated for the next class.

When his last class ended, Draco hurried back to the dorm to read his letter. The black seal broke easily; the letter was written on expensive parchment with an elaborate letterhead reading "From the desk of Lord Voldemort." The hand may well have been the Dark Lord´s own; it was smooth and fluid.

Draco Malfoy;

As you may already know, there is an assembly of my Death Eaters to be held on October 31^st. You will of course be present. I wished for you to know, however, that I have given particular attention to your development as a member of the new Wizarding world that lies ahead of us. Coming as you do from such a well-established family you should not be surprised at this; it would almost be disappointing if you did not rise as high as you could within our order. It is for these reasons, and out of respect for what your late father gave to our cause, that I am offering you the chance to officially become a Death Eater, and to receive your Mark and the knowledge of our noble history and aims. Realize that it is uncommon for one so young to be offered this. KEEP A LOW PROFILE! I pray you will accept,

Lord Voldemort

As soon as Draco had read the letter through, it burst into bright flames, the ashes scattering across his dorm on a chill October draft. Looking at his left forearm, Draco could almost see the faint outline of the Dark Mark. He gave his head a little shake to clear it and set off to tell Arienne the news.

Waiting outside the Ravenclaw common room had proved to be a bad idea, as every Ravenclaw Draco had talked to told him to sod off, among other, less pleasant things. Fortunately Arienne was at dinner and Draco managed to catch her eye. After dinner they walked to the library together, trying to be inconspicuous, and hid between the ceiling-high shelves.

"What is it, Draco?" asked Arienne, her voice hushed.

"I was sent a letter." Draco looked around nervously; the library´s usual silence seemed oppressive and listening. "From the Dark Lord himself."

"We all got them," said Arienne. "The assembly on Halloween night?"

"Yes. But more than that." Draco kept his voice at a near-whisper. "The Dark Lord has offered me the chance to receive my dark mark." Arienne gave out a slight gasp.

"Already? But- but you´re so young! None of us has had the mark offered yet."

"It´s because of my family, I think. The Malfoys are steeped in the dark arts; it´s a matter of pride. My father was close to the Dark Lord when he was younger. I think he wants a Malfoy with him when we make our play for power. It works out rather well for me, at least." Draco grinned.

"So you´re definitely going for it?" asked Arienne, eyes wide.

"For sure. Potter may have been the youngest Seeker in a century, but I´ll be the youngest Death Eater; that´s better by far."

"Just remember to be careful. I heard what you said to Potter and Weasley, and it wasn´t smart. We can´t afford to have people asking questions, especially with the state of emergency. Eight students are no match for the Aurors." Arienne fell silent they heard voices across the library.

"Have any of you seen Mr. Malfoy? Professor Dumbledore needs to speak with him." The voice was Snape´s.

"Why would Dumbledore want you?" asked Arienne.

"Probably about the incident after Potions," said Draco looking worried. "I´d better go."

"Okay. Just remember what Julia said- we can´t trust Snape any more than any other teacher." Draco nodded.

"I´ll see you tomorrow, I guess. Kiss for luck?" The pair embraced quickly, and Draco exited the aisle surreptitiously. He was heading for the door when Snape saw him.

"Draco!" Trying to look surprised, Draco turned back.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak with you regarding the words between yourself, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley. He has requested that I see you to his office." Draco nodded and followed Snape out of the library. When they reached the stone gargoyle denoting the entrance to Dumbledore´s office, Snape leaned in close and muttered something inaudible to the statue´s badly chipped ear, causing it to spring back and reveal a staircase. "Go along, Draco," said Snape coldly.

When Draco set foot on the staircase, the gargoyle statue sprang back into place, leaving him alone. As he ascended the stairs of the tower he felt a vague floating feeling bearing him up, and realized that the stairs themselves rotated slowly. Upon arriving at the top of the stairs, Draco saw Dumbledore bent over a sheaf of parchment, scribbling with an expensive-looking quill. Draco rapped on the side of the door, and Dumbledore looked up.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Do come in." Draco obeyed, and stood in front of Dumbledore´s desk. "Do sit down." Draco turned to find a chair behind him, and almost fell over it. Dumbledore looked at Draco shrewdly over the tops of his glasses. "Professor Snape has told me of your unfortunate encounter with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley this afternoon. I have heard his account of the event, perhaps you would like me to hear yours?"

"Potter and I were discussing the outcome of the Quidditch game this morning, Headmaster," began Draco. "At some point I may have insulted the skills of his er, friend, Cho Chang. Potter took offense and said some things I didn´t appreciate, backed up by Weasley, of course. I was about to retort when they left, and I suppose I just lost my head briefly. It certainly wasn´t something I would have wanted to say." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"You understand, of course, that given the tense climate these days we can hardly stand to have students making threats of this nature. The detention Professor Snape assigned you still stands, and I will be taking twenty points from Slytherin." Draco´s face fell. "Should you be involved in another incident like this, have no doubt your punishment will be much harsher. Your family has quite a reputation, I am sure you are aware, and saying things like you have will not make it any better."

"I´m sorry, Headmaster," said Draco softly. "It won´t happen again."

"Excellent. You may go." Draco made his way out of the Headmaster´s office. "Wait," called Dumbledore. "One more thing. A Mr. Waters and a Ms. Wright from the Aurors have contacted Hogwarts wishing to speak with you. I believe they have information regarding the death of your father. They have made an appointment for the twenty-fifth of this month, and I have made arrangements for you to be excused from classes that day." Dumbledore went back to his parchments. "You may go now. Professor Snape will arrange your detention."

Hogwarts; October 25^th

Draco had been decidedly uneasy ever since his meeting with Dumbledore; none of the other prospective Death Eater students had been forced to speak with the Headmaster while involved in such illegal activities. As it were, Draco had been watching his behaviour and tongue very closely ever since, especially with the threat of talking to Aurors looming ever closer. With the date of the Aurors´ arrival standing between himself and the Death Eaters´ assembly on Halloween night, he didn´t dare focus on his impending dark mark ceremony; rather, Draco forced himself to be a model student and overall nice guy, spending his classes working and his free time with Arienne. His detention involved re-sorting the various utensils in Snape´s numerous dungeon cupboards- menial work, but at least clean.

The day of Draco´s meeting with the Aurors, he was allowed to sleep through his first class (Care of Magical Creatures) and have a late breakfast before Waters and Wright arrived. He tried to keep in a good mood as he made his way to Professor McGonagall´s office to meet the Aurors. Unfortunately he passed Ron in the corridor.

"Hey Malfoy, you´ve got some evil on your nose." Draco´s face screwed up in anger but he held it in until Roger Davies walked by.

"Malfoy, I heard the Aurors´ve come to get you. Fancy a snog with a Dementor?" Draco snapped and grabbed him by the collar.

"They´re here to talk to me about my dead father, you oafish imbecile!" Draco and Davies were on the verge of a full-blown brawl when Professor McGonagall walked by.

"Mr. Davies, Mr. Malfoy, kindly refrain from violence. Mr. Malfoy, you´re late, Mr. Waters and Ms. Wright are waiting." Draco followed silently, casting a bitter glance at Davies. McGonagall ushered Draco into her office and closed the door behind him. The Aurors, dressed in the standard uniforms of dark grey robes, trimmed in black, were already there; Waters sat stiffly behind McGonagall´s desk while Wright stood behind him, smoking a cigarette. She beckoned for Draco to sit.

"Hello, Draco. I´m Lieutenant Wright, and this is Corporal Waters. Over the last few months we´ve been involved with your father´s business, and, more recently, the investigation into his death. We´re going to tell you what we have found out so far about your father´s death, and hopefully you can tell us some things as well."

"I wouldn´t count on that," said Draco. "I wasn´t especially close with my father." Waters leaned forward.

"We´ll come to that later. As you may be aware, Draco, your father´s company, Malfoy Industries, Inc., was under investigation for questionable accounting practices. The MLES was handling the case, but we were assigned as liaisons. Three months ago, we tried to speak with Lucius, only to be told he was on sabbatical in North America and not to be disturbed. Time went by, and no one seemed to know where Lucius Malfoy was. About that time there was a lot of shifting in positions at MII; stock was dropping, there was a high-profile investigation and with the CEO missing, it was near panic. As it turned out, there was so much turnover that the accounting investigation lost a lot of leads. The MLES lost their case almost entirely, and it was closed down. The Aurors had just begun to investigate your father´s whereabouts when the attack on the Ministry occurred; needless to say a lot of things were put on hold. Then, on August 17, MII´s legal team called a press conference and announced Lucius´s death. There was hardly any information given, but it looked like top MII executives had gone behind our backs and acquired the death certificate from the Ministry themselves- a lot of work just to get a simple document." Wright cut in.

"Despite the certificate, there was almost no proof of death. No body, no time of death provided- at least at first- and no one who had seen Lucius die. The MLES took interest; those Aurors who had known your father in the seventies and eighties were intensely interested as well. There was no small amount of suspicion in law enforcement circles that Lucius was involved in the Dark Arts."

"If you´re here to tell me how my father was an evil bastard, can I leave now?" asked Draco, crossing his arms.

"Hear us out," said Waters. "Our investigation has turned up no definitive proof that your father was a Death Eater, nor can we produce any evidence conflicting with his claims of being under the Imperius Curse during incidents from 1973 until 1981. We have learned he had numerous contacts in the magical underworld- crime bosses, money launderers, dark arts traffickers and more. So this is how it stands- there is nothing conclusive about Lucius. His life and his death are muddled, and there is no hard evidence to prove he did anything blatantly illegal. His time of death was eventually given as the afternoon of July 29^th, which fits with everything we know. We were hoping you could fill in some blank spots in our investigation, Draco."

"So basically," said Draco with a sneer, "you´re telling me you don´t really know anything. But, you want me to `fill in the blanks´. Tell me this: is there anything other than blanks in your investigation?" Wright ignored him.

"As far as you know, Draco, does the date of death of July 29 fit? Did you see your father after that date?" Draco did some quick thinking; these were Aurors and they wouldn´t ask him something unless it was important. Then again, MII wouldn´t release information unless it was fit to be released. Draco would just have to do the same.

"Yeah that would be about right," he said casually. "The last week of July a, erm, representative of my father´s company informed my mother that Lucius was dead. We kept it quiet as per his will." Wright produced a clipboard and scribbled with a quill.

"Draco, did you ever see your father doing anything, anything at all, to do with the dark arts?" Draco thought quickly.

"Well, we used to go to a restaurant in Knockturn Alley sometimes, and I know the whole area has a bad reputation. And of course there was that time a couple of years ago when the Ministry confiscated a bunch of items from the Manor. Father was very angry about that- apparently some of them were family heirlooms or something."

"Thank you, Draco. You haven´t been approached by any of your father´s old friends, have you? No reformed Death Eaters, or such?"

"The head of my house is a reformed Death Eater," said Draco helpfully. "But other than that, no."

"Listen to me, Draco," said Wright with force. "We´re trying to help you here. Your family´s history and reputation is a dark one. If any shady characters have approached you, if any dark arts types have tried to convince you that joining them will be good for you, it´s a very dangerous lifestyle. The mortality rate is high, very high- even for a rich, glamorous young man such as you. If you have anything to tell us, you have an obligation to. For your own good, Draco."

"You think I´m glamorous? That´s nice of you..." Wright cut Draco off.

"Do you have anything to tell us? Anything at all?"

"I told you," said Draco slowly, "I wasn´t very close to my father. I don´t know why anyone would contact me, really. It´s not as if I would make a difference to You-Know-Who or something."

"I see," said Wright coldly. "Well, if you think of anything, be sure to contact us, alright?" Draco smiled and nodded sharply.

"Of course. May I go now?"

"Certainly," said Wright. "Thank you for your time."

Draco left the room to find Arienne waiting for him outside, tapping her foot.

"How´d it go? They didn´t interrogate you viciously or anything, did they?"

"No," said Draco, lighting up. "I don´t think they were very high ranking. They talked about my father for a while, asked me a few dumb questions. Not that bright."

"Yeah, I doubt they can do anything unless they´re actually charging you with something," said Arienne.

"Well, they didn´t scare me into revealing our deepest secrets. You looking forward to Halloween?"

"Of course!" said Arienne. "I ordered some really nice black robes from Witch Weekly, they should be arriving in the next few days. I want you to see me in them, they´ll be utterly fabulous." Draco nodded.

"We should get everyone together to talk before Halloween. We haven´t all been together since before that party last month."

"Good idea," said Arienne. "I´ll talk to Angus, you get the Slytherins. We´ll all go out for a drink at the Three Broomsticks on the Hogsmeade weekend next week. When we´re all together we can go somewhere more private."

"Sounds good," said Draco, "I´ll see you, then."

"See you."

October 29^th, Hogsmeade

Draco took sip of his mulled apple cider and leaned back against the bench. The young Death Eaters were gathered at the back of the Three Broomsticks.

"Who´re we still waiting for?" asked Simon.

"Erik and Julia," answered Danielle. "I saw them in Gladrags, they should be here any minute." As if on cue, the two young Death Eaters walked through the door. Erik spotted them and walked over to their table.

"Hi! Everyone´s here?" he said.

"Yep," said Jenna. "We have a silencing charm up, don´t worry."

"Right," said Angus, "so how are we getting to the assembly?"

"There was a portkey included with my letter," said Julia, "we´ll meet outside of town after the Halloween feast. The portkey is set to activate at 10 PM, so we all have to be there on time."

"Yeah, it ought to be good," said Simon cheerfully. There was general agreement.

"Hey, I heard Draco´s getting his mark!" said Danielle in a congratulatory tone. "You think maybe you´ll have to kill someone, Draco?"

"Could be. I `m not too sure about my killing curses though...I haven´t been able to practice them what with the secrecy and all. It would be pretty embarrassing if I failed in front of Voldemort and everyone..." he trailed off.

"Oh, I´m sure you´ll do fine," said Arienne supportively. "You know more dark arts than any of us, except maybe Julia or Erik. Just be relaxed-" Arienne stopped when she saw Snape walking over to them.

"Heads up, guys," muttered Erik softly. Danielle hurried to remove the silencing charm surreptitiously before Snape arrived. As she tucked her wand away, Snape glanced over the group, expressionless.

"It appears you´ve enjoyed your time off, but it is time for us to be returning to the school. Good day." He turned and exited, cloak swirling. Angus sighed and shrugged.

"Well, let´s get going. See you all on Halloween." The eight students walked out into the chilly evening.

October 31, 9:30 PM; Hogwarts

Draco picked at his roast beef in distraction while glowing jack-o-lanterns rotated overhead. The night sky shown on the ceiling of the great hall was dominated by dark clouds rearing their heads high above, threatening and brooding. Draco hadn´t been able to finish a meal all day; his stomach fluttered and his nerves were tetchy- he´d been jumping at things all day. He barely noticed when Snape entered the hall late and told off Potter for spilling gravy, or when Crabbe poked himself in the nose with his fork. Draco´s mind filled with swirling images of the Dark Lord: His pale, washed-out face, his preternaturally shining dark hair, and his inhumanly tall, thin frame swallowed up by billowing, nondescript robes. His spider´s-leg fingers holding his wand so gracefully, and the ease with which he pronounced the Unforgivable Curses. His melodious voice, creeping like poison gas into the Death Eater´s ears, telling them that now, the time had come, now, they would cleanse the deadwood from magical society, that now was the time for action.

Tia Baddock tapped Draco on the shoulder and his heart leapt up in his throat.

"Jumpy today, are we Draco? Your girlfriend asked me to find you. What was her name again?"

"Arienne; she´s Ravenclaw. What did she want?"

Tia made a tutting noise. "A Malfoy being with a non-Slytherin, I shudder to think of what your father would think."

"I think father would´ve approved of Arienne," said Draco. "She shares certain viewpoints with our family. What did she say?"

"She just wants to see you, she´s out on the front steps, talking to Julia Hammond."

"Thank you, Tia," said Draco pleasantly. "See you at Quidditch practice next week."

Outside Draco found Arienne, along with Julia, Angus and Simon.

"Hey Draco," said Arienne. "Erik, Danielle and Jenna are still at the feast, but they should be out any minute." Julia was rubbing her hands together repeatedly. "Nervous?" asked Arienne, who was also shaking just a little.

"Aren´t we all? Draco´s got it worst, the pressure´s on him." Draco winced.

"Thanks for reminding me, Julia. I really needed that." Draco reclined in a small alcove to stay out of the chilly wind.

"Hey Draco, these are the new robes I was telling you about." Arienne struck a pose. "How do they look?"

"They´re great," said Draco briefly; his stomach was still fluttering. How much were they?"

"Two hundred Galleons, and I got the cloak for another hundred and fifty."

"Not bad," replied Draco, who had started pacing. Arienne was demonstrating the seamless detachable hood when the last three Death Eater students arrived.

"You all ready to go?" asked Erik briskly, pausing in his long stride. "We ought to not stand around to much, especially tonight. Let´s move."

Trying to stay calm, the eight students made their way up the road leading through the grounds and away to Hogsmeade. On the edge of the town they paused, and Julia dumped the silver coin that was to be their portkey out of its envelope and into her hand. Jenna and Simon checked their watches.

"Thirty seconds," said Jenna tensely. The coin was engraved with an elaborate skull-and-serpent motif. A cloud slipped over the stars, and the portkey gave a hollow chime.

"Everyone touch the portkey," said Julia in a shaky voice. Everyone did. "Three...two...one..."

There was a bright flicker of colour around Draco´s peripheral vision. He´d thought his stomach was in the worst state it could get, but the sudden jerk of motion and the extended tugging brought bile to his throat. The motion stopped with unexpected suddenness, and the students stumbled. The entrance hall of the Death Eaters´ underground castle loomed above, dark and menacing. Groups of black-cloaked figures arrived, either by portkey or apparition beacon, by twos, threes or more all over the hall. Draco spotted Antony Vittorio going to the main hall with a stooped elderly man, clearly his father.

"Come on, let´s go in," said Angus in an unnaturally quiet voice. The casual nature in the entry hall evaporated in the passageway to the main hall- two Death Eaters stood on either side, giving the trademark expressionless white masks to all passing through.

"Keep it on the whole time...self ventilating...security precaution...keep it on..." they repeated in bored tones. Draco slipped the mask on. "Take some pumpkin juice, please," said one of the attending Death Eaters. Draco drank the offered glass quickly- it had a bitter taste- and continued. The passages in the castle seemed to have changed. Only the one to the auditorium remained unblocked, and that was where everyone was headed. Two more Death Eaters guarded the archway leading in to the auditorium.

"Whom do you serve?" asked one of them as Draco passed.

"Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters," replied Draco without thinking as he passed out into the magically lit bowl. At least a hundred black-robed, white-masked figures gazed down at the newcomers filtering in. For the second time in the day, Draco was surprised when someone clutched his shoulder. He turned to see Amanita Lestrange, Voldemort´s lieutenant, standing behind him, conspicuously unmasked.

"Hello, Draco. If you´ll just come with me, we´ll begin to prepare for your ceremony."

"How did you know it was me, with the mask?" asked Draco.

"It helps if you put your hood up. You have your family´s hair." Lestrange beckoned Draco to follow her, twisting around through the seats until they came to an unblocked corridor. "Down here." The two Death Eaters, Lestrange senior, tall and radiating menace and power, Draco walking behind her, in her shadow, feeling for once in his life weak and intimidated. After what seemed like an eternity of twisting through slick-walled halls and rooms dripping with moisture and mosses, Draco looked down the hall and saw the light of the auditorium brimming just beyond. The corridor opened up onto the flat stage of the bowl. Lestrange conjured a chair for herself and another for Draco. "We´ll watch the proceedings from here. When our Lord calls for you, walk out with your head held high and meet his gaze before you bow. His incantation will bond the Dark Mark to your flesh temporarily; for the ceremony to be complete you must perform a contest of your will to serve him that will seal you with the mark forever."

"A test..." mused Draco, twirling his wand.

"The test, of course, is different for each person. Lord Voldemort handpicks the challenge you will face, just as he chooses those who will receive the mark. This is most likely the most important night of your life, Draco." He stopped twirling his wand.

"I know," he said quietly, "I know." There was a sudden stilling of the vague muttering in the auditorium; Draco looked out into the bowl and saw Lord Voldemort simply appear, out of the air without a pop, flash or anything- he simply appeared. He slipped off his hood and surveyed the assembled crowd with a grim look before throwing back his head and speaking.

"My followers! Hail to you who have stood by me. It was fourteen years ago this very night that I was savagely ripped from my body in such a cruel twist of fate...but that, my friends, only delayed the inevitable. There can be no doubt- my return to power is complete. The Ministry is fearful and tottering. Dumbledore and his muggle-lovers are shut up in their school. The muggles themselves are helpless against us, and we shall take out all of our anger, our righteous anger, on them in the times to come. And still our numbers grow: we have here tonight some with us who have proven their loyalty to me, and to our noble cause, with power and valour in times past. They are to be allowed the privilege of bearing my- our mark. The Dark Mark. But first, my friends- you whose loyalty has never wavered- you deserve to know how our cause progresses."

Hogwarts, 11:30

Quite agitated, Snape arrived in Dumbledore´s office as the Headmaster was about to turn in for the night.

"Headmaster, I thought I should tell you that a number of my students are out of bed again. Their dorm-mates say Greyson and Hammond have not been seen since the feast ended, and I checked on Malfoy as you asked- he is missing as well. There may be others as well."

"Most likely they are in Hogsmeade, celebrating Halloween with stronger drink than we see fit to provide at the feast, Severus," replied the Headmaster. "However, as Alastor sees fit to often remind us, constant vigilance. Especially as it is young Malfoy. So very like his father, he is."

"Yes, quite," agreed Snape. "I shall check my house in case any more students are breaking curfew. As you said, it is most likely they are simply in Hogsmeade, but we can´t afford to take anything for granted, not with things as they are."

"Of course not."

"I find it odd, myself, that, if there is an event involving the Death Eaters tonight, and being Halloween there may very well be, I have not even been notified of it. Voldemort must be even more suspicious of me than I thought. I am deeply uncomfortable with my situation, as you know, Albus." Snape knotted his hands behind his back as he paced in front of Dumbledore´s desk.

"I know, Severus, and I can see where your concern lies. I was skeptical at first; we all know of Voldemort´s paranoid security measures; but I would not put your life at risk for no purpose. I will not ask you to do anything life-threatening in the near future."

"Thank you, Headmaster," replied Snape, "but you do realize that if our suspicions are right, my life will be in worse danger than it ever was. I assure you I will take all precautions." Dumbledore nodded.

"Of course. As will I. Now, I believe you are meeting with representatives from the Aurors tonight, and I myself have a very serious appointment in London."

One Hour Later, Somewhere in Wizarding London...

"Hello again, Cornelius," said Dumbledore quickly, shaking the Minister´s hand. "I apologize for my lateness, I was meeting with one of my operatives on a matter of some urgency."

"It is no matter, Albus," replied the Minister, straightening his robes. "Come, the other Ministers are here already." Dumbledore followed Fudge into a large boardroom where four others were already seated: Amanda Conneley, Commander of the Aurors; Bill MacTavish and Jason O´Riley, the Ministers of Magic for Scotland and Ireland, respectively; and the muggle Prime Minister, Ethan Montgomery; each of the dignitaries was attended by aides and advisors as well. Dumbledore greeted the magical representatives quickly before turning to the muggle leader.

"It´s been a while since we last talked, Ethan," he said smoothly. "Has it not?"

"Yes, too long for my liking," replied the Prime Minister. "I still feel I owe a debt to you, Albus. But times have changed, both for you and for us. We have a lot to discuss here tonight."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, taking his seat next to Montgomery as Fudge stood and cleared his throat.

"It´s been seventeen years since a meeting like this took place," he said slowly. "At that time I was a simple bureaucrat in the Department of Finance, young and idealistic. Some of us had not even begun our political careers. But the situation now is just as it was then: You-Know-Who threatens the balance between our worlds, and the freedom of us all." The Prime Minister looked somewhat quizzical, but Fudge continued. "As in all times of tension and upheaval, it is important that those of us with parallel goals work side by side. My interest in this meeting is to pave the way for the eventual destruction of You-Know-Who, and it can only be brought about with the cooperation of all of us." The other dignitaries nodded in agreement, and there was a brief flurry from the aides as they made hurried notes. The young muggle Prime Minister stood.

"I´m aware this might appear ignorant to you, but I´m not entirely clear on exactly who this `You-Know-Who´ is. I mean, I´ve been briefed a fair bit, I know he´s some kind of extreme right-wing insurgent in your world, that he despises non-magical and mixed-blood people and that his movement is extremely dangerous and responsible for nearly forty reported murders in Great Britain this year. But as a rule, when there is someone that dangerous on the loose in our world, we try to know as much as is humanly possible about them." Conneley started to rise, but the Prime Minister continued. "I´m not saying you haven´t done this among yourselves; I´m sure you have. I´m just saying that it would be extremely beneficial for my people to have that information as well." There was agreement all around, and Montgomery sat back down as Minister O´Riley rose.

"Well, I believe Albus is the most familiar with You-Know-Who´s early days and rise to power. If you´d be so kind?" Dumbledore nodded sagely and stood.

"I am unsure of what you know already, Ethan, so I´ll try to be thorough. `You-Know-Who´, as he is referred to by most, calls himself Lord Voldemort. It is an adaptation of his real name, Thomas Marvolo Riddle. He was born in 1927, orphaned after his witch mother died in childbirth, the non-magical father having abandoned her after she revealed herself as one of us. He was a student of mine during the thirties and forties; we now know that during his time at school he was directly responsible for the death of one student and the framing of another for that death, as well as the murder of his own father and grandparents. He was involved from a very early age in the use of Dark Magic; that is, magic that directly seeks the control, extreme pain or death of other beings. Not only that, it has recently been revealed that he is descended in unbroken line from Salazar Slytherin, an immensely powerful and influential wizard who lived hundreds of years ago and was responsible for much of the Dark Magic that is known today."

"After he graduated, I lost track of him, and it was not for lack of trying, though we now know that he was an apprentice to a legendary German Dark Wizard, Grindelwald. He was, and still is, the most ingenious wizard I have ever known, but I was always suspicious of him, and would have liked to keep tabs on him. Either way, when a mysterious, powerful and occasionally violent revolutionary surfaced in 1968, calling himself Voldemort and calling for the total separation of magical and non-magical worlds, I was immediately intrigued. Those were years of social upheaval, and Voldemort immediately found supporters in the older families; those families whose ancient status had been threatened by the shifts in culture and attitude post-World War Two. It wasn´t long before Voldemort was convicted, in absentia, of treason, insurgency and multiple murders. He grew progressively more violent, calling for the eradication of mixed-blood wizards, their families, and squibs. His followers carried out his commands ruthlessly. The lists of dead grew long, and hardly a day went by when a name didn´t appear in the obituaries because of Voldemort and his `Death Eaters´. A State of Emergency was declared in 1973, and it lasted until ´81. In those days political power in the magical world rested with Bartemius Crouch, head of Magical Law Enforcement. The Aurors were too small a group at the time to combat the Death Eaters, but they tried, and many died. Our battle with Voldemort affected the muggle government just as it affects you now, and Prime Ministers Wilson and Callaghan cooperated with Crouch in an attempt to slow the rise of Voldemort; however, it still seemed futile."

"On Halloween of ´81, a freak occurrence brought an end to Voldemort´s insurrection. He attempted to kill a pair of our operatives himself, which in itself was odd- he had begun to rely more and more on his followers- and he succeeded, but he then tried to kill the two operatives´ young son. A magical force brought on by the mother´s simple devotion repelled Voldemort´s curse, and out of sheer luck the rebounding curse struck him full on. He was destroyed, and his followers disintegrated, either going into hiding or causing sufficient criminal chaos to be arrested and permanently incarcerated. However, myself and several others suspected Voldemort was not fully dead. Of course, he should have been, but a wizard so powerful and schooled in the darkest of magic might have been able to overcome the curse. About the time we were discussing this, Bartemius Crouch was implicated in a scandal and forced to leave his Department, leading to our good friend Cornelius becoming Minister of Magic. Without the need for close relations, the link between our two governments grew thin, though of course you were kept aware of our existence. Unfortunately, I was correct in my fears: Voldemort was not destroyed, merely disembodied. With the aid of two of his former followers, he was able to carry out an operation and restore himself to his body this past summer. His forces that had escaped returned to him, either out of fear or love, and there are many others who have come to share his beliefs. He attacked the Ministry´s highest-security prison soon after his return, freeing his followers and turning the prison´s dangerous guards loose. He is even more powerful now than he was at the height of his last rising. I have never feared him personally, but I am only too aware of the effect he has on others. He has always been charismatic and able to sway those weak in their convictions to his purposes. All of magical Britain is in danger of falling under his sway, violently, and if that happens, I fear for all of your people, Prime Minister. Voldemort considers non-magic folk animals, or worse. He will destroy you if he has the chance."

"It gets worse, I am afraid; but I will let Commander Conneley tell you what we know of the Death Eaters´ military operations since the summer." Dumbledore sat down, bowing his head. Montgomery´s young face was pale, and his expression bleak. Conneley rose, a grim frown on her stern face.

"We´ve been tracking the movements of the Death Eaters since mid-summer. After the debacle at the Triwizard Tournament when You-Know-Who regained his body, many of those suspected Death Eaters who were not convicted were able to elude surveillance and vanish; presumably their master called them away to some hidden location. In late July, Azkaban Prison, our high-security prison, fell to the Death Eaters under mysterious circumstances. The security measures in place there were turned against us and have so far foiled in-depth investigation. We assume that the surviving prisoners, numbering nearly one hundred and fifty, were released; all of them are extremely dangerous criminals. Of those, approximately fifty are confirmed Death Eaters or supporters. The guards, creatures known as Dementors, were also released; these creatures are highly dangerous, eliciting extreme depression and suicidal tendencies to those in a radius about them and are also able to consume the will of a person they attack, leaving them entirely impressionable and completely devoid of any self-directing force." Montgomery´s face went white.

"I´ve never heard of anything like this before. You used these- these things as guards? You bargained with them?" Conneley blinked and looked down briefly.

"They were confined to the prison in order to remove them from society. As they live off of fear and darkness, they cannot be destroyed, save for prolonged exposure to areas where no people live, and to direct sunlight, at the same time. We sought to both use them and confine them. The point is, they have escaped, and we know for certain that at least twenty of them have survived to reach into the southern areas of Scotland and England. After the attack on Azkaban, the Death Eaters went back into hiding, drawing their supporters to them once more. The Ministry made a public declaration regarding the return of You-Know-Who on August 7. Four days later, the Ministry building itself was attacked, along with the nearby Department of Security building, which houses the MLES´ and Aurors´ bureaucracy and controls the wards around the Ministry. The death toll was near seven hundred, all told, with sixty-seven Death Eaters and supporters killed and another twenty-four captured. The senior Death Eaters did not participate in the attacks; rather it was the younger ones and the non-humans; werewolves, vampires, dark elves and the like. There was huge public outcry, but also some fringe support. The Death Eaters were quiet and licked their wounds for a month or so. Then the random attacks began, just as they were in the seventies. A muggle-born and their family here, a group of muggles there, tortured, killed, brainwashed or controlled. Your press has noticed it; ours has inflamed it. A State of Emergency is in effect. And just recently, one of your own MI6 operatives working in conjunction with the Aurors uncovered the purchase of a neutrino bomb by Death Eater agents. Whatever it is You-Know-Who is planning, it is rushing towards an inevitable conclusion, and quickly. Somehow, we have to stop him." Montgomery rose, rubbing his neck.

"It´s very clear to me, given what I´ve just heard, that my interest in this matter is protecting the people of non-magical Great Britain. Fighting this Lord Voldemort is hardly my responsibility, though. I just want to make sure he can´t attack my people."

"You realize, Prime Minister," said Fudge, struggling to keep his voice steady, "that my government is in considerable danger of being overthrown? That, should it fall, You-Know-Who will take control of magical England? If this happens, there will be no one to protect you from him. You can´t count on us for this; we´re under too much pressure. We need to support each other wholly, or Voldemort will be able to control us both."

"You have your Department of Mysteries," said Montgomery coldly. "I´ve demarked large sums for the development of magically-integrated technology, and the results are going to be used in your war against `You-Know-Who´. I won´t sanction the use of more of my taxpayers´ money for a wizarding war. If necessary, I will keep them safe from the fringe elements of your world, and if I do so, it will be through my own means and I will not be held accountable to you for the actions I take. Keeping your people under control is your governments´ responsibility, not mine. Now, if you´ll excuse me, I think we´re about done here. I would like to get some sleep; Parliament is meeting tomorrow morning." He turned to leave.

"Just a moment, Ethan," said Dumbledore, rising. "I think you underestimate the danger of this situation, and overestimate the power of the Ministry to protect you and your people. You have made your decision, and we will respect that, however, I hope that you will change your mind. Goodbye for now." The Prime Minister nodded.

"I look forward to speaking to you again, Albus. Goodnight, Ministers."

When the Prime Minister was gone, Fudge hit his fist on the table.

"He is a fool," he said. "If he wants to go it alone, I say let him keep Voldemort from killing muggles. It´s more than we can do, and if he thinks he can, he´s welcome to delude himself. We have enough trouble without worrying about them."

"Calm down, Cornelius," insisted Dumbledore. "He doesn´t understand what it´s like. No muggle could! He´s made his choice; all we can now is stand on our own and hope he will come around. I suggest we hold another meeting tomorrow, of the four of us, and discuss consolidation of our law enforcement agencies for the purpose of fighting the Death Eaters. We have to draw together for this purpose, or we´ll be eradicated one by one." There was general assension among the Ministers.

"Excellent idea, Albus," said MacTavish, stifling a yawn. "I do think the muggle Prime Minister had one good point, though- we all need some sleep. We ought to continue this later, when we all have our wits about us. We can hammer out a collective security agreement then that will benefit us all"

"Agreed," replied O´Riley. "I´m sure we all have early morning activities; these are busy days. I´ll be in touch to arrange a second meeting as soon as possible." The Ministers were ushered out by their aides, and when they were gone, Dumbledore apparated back to Hogsmeade with a quiet pop.

The Death Eaters´ Convene...

Continuing his speech to the assembled Death Eaters, Voldemort held a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him and read it to the assembled crowd, punctuating the articles with commentary.

"Ah yes, the `massacre´ in Colchester...seventeen muggles dead, and there would have been more had the Aurors not arrived...they are meddlesome fools, but they shall not stop us. Avery, I see you were successful. "Explosion at inspection station, Minister MacTavish closes border." The more the muggles, the mudbloods and their lackeys, the more they fear, my friends, the stronger we get. Eventually the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy will be shattered, and then there will be true fear, yes, on both sides." Voldemort stopped and tossed away the paper, concluding his frenzy-inspiring speech to a wave of cheering and shouting from the assembled Death Eaters.

"And now, my friends," he continued, "it is time for the most important part of our meeting here tonight. You will watch as three new members join our ranks. As we have always done, the youngest shall be presented first. Many of you have met the heir to one of our kind´s most prominent families. Draco Malfoy, at the age of only fifteen, led a small group in the attack that drove the Ministry from Diagon Alley. His actions there, his powerful bloodline, the memory of his father and what he did, and above all the simple fact that he was brought up, every minute of every day, to be a part of our cause, all point to his being worthy of this honour. Draco, come forward!"

Draco´s legs shook under him as he stood and took a few uncertain steps towards the arch. As he passed under it and into the floor of the auditorium, he shook himself. You´re a Malfoy, he thought to himself. Walk with pride. He straightened his back and willed his legs to steady themselves. Step, step, step...after what seemed like an eternity of walking across the silent bowl, he reached Lord Voldemort. As Lestrange had told him to, he tilted his head back to meet the Dark Lord´s eyes before bowing to one knee.

"My Lord." He tried to keep his voice steady.

"Draco Malfoy," said Lord Voldemort smoothly, "do you wish to pledge allegiance to the Death Eaters, and to myself?"

"Yes, my Lord," intoned Draco.

"And will you follow the commands given to you by your superiors and show wisdom in dealing with your inferiors? Will you disdain mercy and seek rather justice and power? Will you do everything for the furthering of our noble cause, to bring the power of our society to its height? And do you swear to preserve the purity of your blood, disdaining those creatures who, in their presumptuousness, believe themselves the equal of true wizardkind?"

"Yes, my Lord." The auditorium was silent, and Draco´s answers echoed in the stillness.

"Whom do you serve, Draco?"

"I serve Lord Voldemort," said Draco clearly. "I serve the Death Eaters." Voldemort nodded, and took Draco´s left hand in his own.

"Morsmordre!" he shouted, flashing his wand down past Draco´s arm. A green flash of light shone out in the auditorium as the echoes of the Dark Lord´s incantation died down. Draco heard the sizzling of the sparks in his flesh even before he felt it; it was as if some carnivorous creature was chewing its way down into his arm, leaving lines that glowed with hot ash. Draco gritted his teeth until the sparks died into black lines; the Dark Mark on his arm was a simple burn for now.

"Draco," said Voldemort after a moment, "you have sworn allegiance to me. But words are nothing without actions. Like everyone else here tonight has, or soon will be, you shall be put to the test, and bond your mark to yourself, and to me, forever. Draco, have you ever killed a man?" Unlike when he had been speaking before, Voldemort´s voice did not boom about the bowl when he said this; rather it was quiet and personal.

"No, my Lord," answered Draco truthfully.

"Never tried?" asked the Dark Lord.

"In the Ministry, I...I tried to cast the killing curse. I failed, it wasn´t strong enough; I don´t know what happened to the person I tried it on."

"Of course not. Well, I do know what happened to him, Draco." Voldemort turned to the Death Eaters guarding one of the two low-level exits from the bowl´s bottom. "Send in the muggle-lover." The guards left, and returned in moments with a ragged figure, who flinched from the light. Draco looked closely before identifying him.

"Weasley?" Percy´s red hair was darkened by more than two months of dirt, his robes were shredded and his eyes were bleary. Draco had never seen a person look more dismal, but Percy´s weary eyes blazed with hate nonetheless.

"Malfoy," he spat. Voldemort merely smiled.

"You two," he said, "shall duel. We shall see what happens. Your wand, muggle-lover." He removed a wand from his robes and gave it to Percy.

"Bow," commanded Voldemort, and the duelists obeyed. "Back to back...good. Three...two...one...duel."

Draco spun, and as he had been taught over the years, dodged to his left rather than cast the first spell. Percy shouted a disarming hex that went wide just past Draco´s shoulder. Steadying himself, Draco countered with a stunning spell, which Percy blocked easily. They exchanged spells again, with the same results- Percy was more experienced, having three more years of school under his belt, and blocked Draco´s curses with impunity; fortunately for Draco he was exhausted and disoriented from his imprisonment, and found it difficult to aim correctly. Slowly but surely Draco backed him up to the wall of the auditorium´s base, where he stood, trapped. Another disarming spell of Percy´s missed, and Draco was about to counter when Percy rolled to his left and shouted "Lacerus!" Draco broke off his curse in an attempt to block, but he was too slow and the curse too powerful. The curse´s bolt smashed into his chest, burning flesh and sending tiny cuts ribboning out across his skin, soaking his skin and shirt with blood. Percy scrambled to get up, but Draco was quicker this time. He brought his wand back around on Percy with fierceness, not even noticing that when he swung his wand up over his head, the movement ripped the cuts on his chest open wider. He had only one curse in mind, and as his wand flashed down he shouted it at the top of his lungs.

"Avada Kedavra!"