Irredeemable

Harry rose slowly to his feet, eyes still fixated on the corpse in front of him. His eyebrows were lowered so that his eyes appeared as mere slits of malicious evil, lips narrowed and cruel. His breath came in ragged gasps and his hands were tightly balled at his sides.

"Harry Potter, step forth," Voldemort called out formally. After a lost lingering glance at the cooled body in front of him he moved away to stand before the Dark Lord, eyes blazing with a myriad of emotions.

"You have proven yourself worthy to join my ranks. Are you willing to give up all that you previously held dear and serve only me?" Voldemort's gaze was piercing and calculating, searching for any hint of a lie or even a sign of hiding the truth.

"I am." Surprisingly, Harry's voice was calm, blank and devoid of any emotion.

Voldemort let the slight shock register on his face by a slow-spreading serpentine smile. "Are you willing to torture and kill?"

"As it pleases you."

"Will you serve me in battle and remain faithful even if captured?"

"I will not betray you if you do not betray me."

Draco, looking on, frowned nervously. No one was allowed to talk to the Dark Lord in that casual and demanding manner. The Death Eaters, his still-trembling father among them, exchanged glances, waiting for their master to raise his wand and torture the poor fool.

The word "Crucio" never came.

Instead Voldemort cackled, the sound high and disconcerting. No mortal should be able to laugh so mockingly with such genuine mirth. "A deal I will be most pleased to make. In return for your servitude you shall have all that you desire. You shall sit at my right hand and rule with me forever."

Harry grinned, a slow, wickedly gleeful smile that stole away whatever innocence was left in his face, maturing him instantly. "The pleasure is all mine," he answered smoothly, sketching a rough bow.

"Draco Malfoy, step forth." Draco immediately moved away from the form that had once housed the soul of Bellatrix Lestrange, falling immediately to his knees and debasing himself in front of his soon-to-be-master.

"Are you ready to forsake all elements of your past life if necessary and to turn your back on those you once considered your friends in order to serve me? Are you willing to befriend an enemy?"

Draco's throat was dry and he had to wet his lips before responding reverently, "Yes, my lord."

"Are you willing to torture, kill, and use the Unforgivables and other Dark magic?"

"Yes, my lord," Draco repeated, with slightly more confidence.

"Can you serve me and no other, even if it means your death?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I welcome you to the Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy." The blonde wizard let out a breath that he had not realized he had been keeping pent up. "Rise to receive my mark."

Draco followed the instructions immediately, baring his left forearm and offering it to Voldemort. "Morsmordre!" Voldemort muttered. A searing pain enveloped his entire body, focused at the point where the snake entwined about the skull was beginning to show darkly against his moon-pale skin.

He did not cry out in pain; Malfoy's were above such plebian displays of emotion. He took the pain calmly but was visibly relieved when the spell was lifted and his arm dropped of its own violation.

"Tonight we have two new brethren," Voldemort announced loudly to his assembled minions, voice carrying sharply through the crisp winter air. "They shall rise to glory within my ranks. To mark their new status, they shall be given a second Mark."

Mutters broke out among the Death Eaters, surprised words mixed with angry phrases. Voldemort allowed the murmurs to continue for a moment before shouting out "silence" and instantly pacifying his soldiers.

Voldemort motioned for Harry and Draco to kneel before him. He raised his Yew wand slowly, holding it with both hands above his head. With a sudden jab he crashed the thin bough through the air, screaming, "Jorgumth!" Bright silver lines appeared on each of the boys' cheeks, gradually spreading to form a picture.

A shiny serpent took shape, eyes closed and fangs showing in a sharp, threatening hiss. As the complicated patterns on their scales completed themselves, the snakes lazily opened their eyes, blinking at their new surroundings.

As one they uncoiled and begun to writhe across their master's faces. Harry carefully brought his hand up to his face, touching the smooth skin. He could barely feel the light brush of scales through his callused fingertips and he looked up at Voldemort, utterly amazed.

"Twice I have marked you as mine," Voldemort hissed softly, "and mine you shall remain."

Smoothly the Dark Lord gestured for his two newest followers to rise and turn to face their fellow Death Eaters. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy shall serve as my second-in-commands. To cross them is to cross me and any offense will be dealt with just as harshly."

The Death Eaters immediately bowed low, some more sincerely than others. The older Malfoy in particular had a stiff spine and his head was slightly raised in defiance. Voldemort noted those who bowed reluctantly and reminded himself to watch those carefully; any who went against his commands must be punished. His word was more than law: it was as if his orders came from the gods themselves.

Voldemort smirked; all was as it should be.

Draco, Harry, and Blaise appeared in one of the many small rooms used for the purpose of Apparation, panting slightly from the effort of their wild flight.

"We're finally out," Draco breathed in relief, pulling Harry into a close hug.

"No more Dumbledore!" Harry responded joyfully, wrapping his arms around Draco compliantly. "No more Weasley, no more Granger, no more-"

"No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks!" Blaise chanted, clapping her hands together joyfully. Draco, used to the girl's antics, just rolled his eyes while Harry looked on confused.

"What?" he questioned.

"Honestly, Potter, it's an old Muggle rhyme. You were raised by Muggles, weren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I don't know where you heard it or how it applies-"

"Honestly, Harry, sometimes I wonder if you have anything between your ears," Draco quipped lightly. "Blaise may be a pureblood but she's not ignorant on Muggle customs."

"That still doesn't explain why it makes sense in this situation!" Harry protested, pushing Draco away from him playfully.

"I can't go back to Hogwarts after having helped you escape, now can I? For all intents and purposes, I've graduated. I don't have to take my N.E.W.T.s now or put up with all those scathing looks from McGonagall. That woman has something against every single Slytherin."

Harry blinked for a moment before laughing. "For good reason," he commented, earning two glares eerily reminiscent of Snape's from the two Slytherins.

"We should go check in with Master," Draco reminded them, stifling their laughter slightly. "He'll want to see how we've fared."

"Of course," Harry replied, moving towards the door.

The trio moved quickly through the mostly empty corridors of the giant stronghold, Blaise following behind slightly and taking in the new sights with wide eyes. Harry and Draco strolled confidently, refusing to look as if they had spent the past several weeks in one room.

Finally they reached the throne room, bowing before the Dark Lord in his throne of human remains. Voldemort had a faint smirk upon his face but it was not one of joy. Instead, it was a cruel and conniving grin of triumph and the realization that the doom of Dumbledore was approaching.

"My lord," the three teenagers said respectfully, bowing deeply and not looking up, though Blaise was certainly tempted to do so. She had never met the Dark Lord before and the mere thought of being in his presence at last sent a thrill of terrified pleasure through her before she calmed her body and took control of herself as befitting a Slytherin.

"Rise, my snakes," Voldemort told the two males. Blaise looked up through her bangs, but stayed where she was. Draco and Harry, however, stood and bowed again, facing their master with expressions of homecoming and relief.

Voldemort gesticulated for Harry to tell him their story, which he immediately did, skipping over nothing and paying scrupulous attention to details. Voldemort seemed pleased with his account, though the only sign was his relaxed posture and the slight curve of his lips.

"This report does nothing to improve my opinion of Dumbledore, that old Muggle-loving fool. No one has ever managed to convert one of my loyal Death Eaters. To be sure he may have thought that Snape joining his beloved Order was a great victory, but Snape's loyalties always lied more with himself than with any external master.

"You have done well; your information will be most beneficial while planning our attack. You may take your positions." Draco and Harry nodded and bowed, moving to their normal seats at the smaller throne.

Voldemort turned towards the still-kneeling Blaise with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here? Your instructions were to remain within Hogwarts and continue to spy for me," he snarled faintly, voice soft and dangerous.

"I was found, my lord. If I would have stayed I would have been killed or been kept as a prisoner," Blaise informed the Dark Lord, eyes downcast but a faint note of rebellion in her low voice.

"You do want to be my servant, don't you Blaise Zambini?" Voldemort asked, faint creases beginning to form on his pale forehead.

"Yes, my lord; it is my sole wish to be able to serve you." Her voice was confident and her eyes sparkled slightly from excitement. Her breath came quickly and a faint rose colour tinted her cheeks.

"Do you know all that calling me master would entail?" Voldemort questioned quietly.

"No, my lord," Blaise admitted reluctantly, self-assurance diminishing and a slight tinge of anxiety appearing in her otherwise calm voice.

"Harry, perhaps you can enlighten her," Voldemort suggested lightly.

"Of course, my master." Harry turned to Blaise and begun to recite, "You must be willing to lie for Him, to cheat, to steal, to fornicate, to kill, to torture, to rape, to pillage, to go against your own personal wishes, to obey His orders and only His orders, and to do everything that He asks of you. In addition, you must remain eternally loyal, through torture or threats of death. You must never give away any information that He does not wish for you to divulge. Most importantly, you must be willing to die for Him." Harry stopped, opening his eyes and grinning faintly. Blaise was about to be initiated into the circle of Death Eaters and he looked forward to knowing her better. If he had agreed to let the Sorting Hat put him in Slytherin, he was sure that she would have been a good friend of his.

Blaise's countenance was carefully blank but her golden eyes betrayed the lack of understanding and slight fear that were roiling through her mind and soul.

"Is that truly what you wish your life to be, Blaise Zambini? Do you truly want to give yourself to another and obey only them for your entire life?"

"Yes, my lord. I want nothing more." However, despite the confidence portrayed by her words, her tone expressed a slight hesitation.

"Tell me, Blaise Zambini, do you have a boyfriend?" Voldemort's eyebrows quirked in an almost comical manner.

"Yes, my lord, I do."

"And what House is he in?"

"Ravenclaw, my lord."

"I see. You understand that by agreeing to serve me you would forsake any claim to choose your future husband?"

Blaise's gasp caught at her throat but she replied in a strangled voice, "Yes, my lord."

"Your opinions and feelings would be nothing. In fact, I might even have you kill this Ravenclaw to further my cause- or solely to prove your loyalty to me."

Blaise said nothing but her face clearly showed the inner battle that she waged. On one side, she had been brought up to believe in no one but the Dark Lord and nothing but his commands. On the other, however, she was an independent girl by nature and giving up the basic rights entitled to any human born in a free country was tearing at her soul.

"Would you be willing to do that?" Voldemort pushed, pressing for an answer.

"Yes... my lord..." she murmured quietly.

"Would you be willing to die for me?"

"Yes, my lord." She kept her eyes focused on the blood-stained flagstones set in intricate, incomprehensible patterns on the floor.

"Then why did you not stay at Hogwarts and accept your fate?"

"I-" Blaise started but was caught off by a sharp wave of the Dark Lord's hand.

"You could have provided a suitable distraction to insure the escape of Harry and Draco. Instead, you selfishly chose to preserve your own life. In the process you risked my two most valuable servants and could have caused their deaths or

their re-capture. Not only that, but your rash, self-serving actions could have thrown off the entire strategy that is being planned to take control from those who no longer deserve it."

"I am sorry, my lord, I will do better next time-"

"There will be no next time in the future for you," Voldemort announced with cold finality.

With slow, careful movements he raised his wand of Yew and pointed it at the kneeling girl. "Crucio!"

At first Blaise did not shriek out in pain; like most children of Death Eaters, she had long since grown used to the Cruciatus Curse. Her parent's intent, however, had never been as malevolent as that of Voldemort and she soon lost her numb feelings and cried out as the curse ripped through her skin and tore at her nerves.

Harry shifted his gaze nervously from his master to the girl who had risked her life to rescue him from the clutches of those he had once called his friends.

Voldemort carefully lifted the curse, leaving Blaise gasping on the floor for breath that she could not seem to draw into her lungs.

"Do you truly wish to serve me, girl?" Voldemort asked with a sneer.

Blaise could not manage to gather the force necessary to answer verbally; she nodded her assent slowly and winced as if it pained her to do so in more than a physical sense. Silent tears made moist trails down her golden tan cheeks, leaving tracks of sorrow in their wake.

"Then why do you lie there sobbing? Why did you not obey my explicit instructions? Why did you take so long to free my true servants from their imprisonment?" Voldemort's voice was cold, cruel, and heartless, perfectly matching his furious expression and crimson eyes that burned with all the fires of Hell itself.

Blaise stayed silent for a moment, before an angry snarl appeared on her dark face. "You're a bastard," she spat. "My parents always told me to follow you, that you were a god. Instead, you're nothing more than a stupid, power-hungry dictator!"

Harry had to stop himself from gulping, knowing that her punishment would be swift and merciless.

"What do you think gods are, foolish child? Do you think they truly care about the lives that mortals lead?"

"More so than you!" Blaise retorted, attempting to rise into a low crouch but succeeding in only furthering the painful torment of her body.

"What do you think you're doing, Blaise?" Draco asked, both disbelieving and annoyed.

"Do not interfere, Malfoy!" the Dark Lord instructed, eyes never leaving the huddled, pitiful figure before him but his hand restraining the young Death Eater from rising. "She has made her choice and nothing can save her from her fate now."

Blaise shivered at the cold, uncaring tone in Voldemort's voice. Still, she kept her head erect and stared directly back into the crimson eyes of the man she had almost called master.

Voldemort smiled nefariously, half-closing his eyes and weaving his head slightly back and forth in a decidedly serpentine manner. "For rescuing my servants, I shall grant you a quick death. Due to their return, I am feeling uncharacteristically merciful." He paused and smirked, then raised his wand casually. "Avada Kedavra."

Harry shivered, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and clenching his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the image of Blaise's cold, staring, accusing eyes. He huddled in one corner of the magnificent bed he shared with Draco, not even feeling the smooth comfort of silk sheets after so long spent in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

He barely registered the soft movements of Draco crawling towards him on the bed; he did not respond to the pair of lithe arms circling him and pulling him into a soothing hug.

"It's all right, Harry, really it is. We're back and Dumbledore can't do a thing against us anymore." He nuzzled the back of Harry's neck with his aristocratic nose, causing a shudder to run through the boy, but the small thrill of pleasure swiftly disappeared. It was replaced with doubt and confusion.

"Why'd he do it, Draco?" he asked in a childish voice. "Why?"

"Because he's an old Mudblood-lover, that's why. He's spent decades trying to destroy those who are powerful enough to oppose him, especially you. He's ruined your entire life, or tried to by his manipulations."

"That's not what I mean," Harry said with a dry sob. "Why did he have to kill her? What did she do wrong?"

"She went against him," Draco replied, tone making it apparent that there was nothing more obvious.

"She'd just saved us!" Harry argued fiercely, pulling away from Draco's embrace roughly. "She died because she wanted to live!"

"She died because she was insolent to our master," Draco explained calmly, moving towards Harry and cupping his face in two long-fingered hands. "She died because she was wrong and because she could not follow orders."

"She should have been punished, yes, for no one should be allowed to trespass against our master, but her death was not warranted!" His face was torn apart by grief, guilt, and an odd sense of distant responsibility.

"She said things that would be unthinkable for her to utter and still live. She insulted our master and resisted his will."

"Shouldn't she be allowed to choose the right to live? By leaving Hogwarts all she was trying to do was keep herself alive- a very Slytherin trait. Besides, how could she serve the Dark Lord's purpose by being slain or Kissed?"

"She should have died for the Dark Lord. If she could not die for him, then how could she be expected to live for him?"

"How could she live for him if she were dead?" Harry countered, though it was without real force. He covered his face with his hands and proclaimed in a muffled voice, "I'm sick of all the death, Draco. I'm sick of blood and sacrifice and betrayal."

"I am too. But if we don't go on with our lives and end this now- if we tried to away and quit and abandon everything we know- it would catch up with us eventually. If we ever want this to be over, we have to continue."

"But what if the life after that isn't worth living?" Harry asked bitterly. "What if, after all that, we find ourselves miserable and alone?"

"That will never happen," Draco assured him, raising Harry's chin with gentle hands so that their eyes met squarely. "I will never be separated from you and as long as we're together we will always have something to live for."

Harry smiled sweetly at the loving words from the other boy. "I won't leave you ever," Draco continued. "Even if you die," he made a warding motion with his hands to banish even the mere thought away, "I shall follow you into the underworld."

"What if something else happens? Something unseen, something we never could have predicted? What if," Harry too made a warding motion, "I... turn against our master and join the fools once more?"

"That could never happen," Draco denied, though a faint hint of worry was evident in his voice. Clearly he had though on this matter some himself and was not pleased with whatever he had concluded.

"But what if it does?" Harry pressed. "What will you do?"

Draco breathed deeply and shut his eyes, searching somewhere inside for the appropriate answer. "I would join you. I would stay by your side and never leave you, but I would never stop trying to get you to return our master, to make you realize the error of your ways. But I would never abandon you, ever."

Harry closed his eyes in contentment. "Somehow, I would expect nothing less."

"Why do you always scream at night?"

The question was sudden and unexpected and forced him to cringe involuntarily. "What are you talking about?" he asked brusquely, refusing to turn around and confront Malfoy. Instead, he focused his attention on the potion in front of him, carefully adding in two dried Fwooper hearts and stirring the bright orange concoction with a nauseatingly neon green Fwooper feather.

"What makes you wake up? What are your nightmares about that they leave you scared and shaken? What frightens you, Harry?"

"I don't see what possible motivation you have for wanting to know, Malfoy, and I don't see why you care-"

"Draco."

"What?"

"My name is Draco."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. I'm not dense, Malfoy. Or did you think I had you confused with your father. You two are practically carbon copies."

"I am not my father," Draco remarked, silver eyes flashing like steel reflecting moonlight. "Just like you are not yours. However much we may look like them, we are our own people."

"I am, at least. I never had the chance to know my father."

"And I wish that I had never met mine!"

Both were silent for a moment before Draco studied the potion Harry was still stirring carefully. "What is it? I don't recognize it at all."

"Wolfsbane, in its early stages. Now that I'm a werewolf I need to learn how to brew it for myself in case someone else is not available."

"Wolfsbane has Fwooper parts in it?"

"Yes. You know what they are, right?"

"Of course I do." Draco crossed his arms and frowned at the slight to his competence and intelligence, however slight and unintentional. "They are from Africa and drive those who hear them slowly insane. Sort of like Granger." Harry snorted in amusement and nodded. "That doesn't explain why they are used in Wolfsbane, though."

"According to the book, since werewolves could be considered insane by human standards, Fwoopers would have an opposite effect on them, making them more sane. It's the part of the potion that helps the werewolf to maintain their rational mind."

Draco blinked. "That makes... a surprising amount of sense. In a nonsensical sort of way."

"That certainly didn't."

The two looked at each other before bursting into laughter.