The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow

The Future will be Better Tomorrow: Chapter Six

After Nott dismissed him, Marcus went back to look for Antonin and Rabastan. They were still on the boat, but they were getting ready to leave. Antonin asked him what Nott made him do, and Marcus replied that he had to do lots of reading and even write an essay. Rabastan laughed sympathetically and clapped Marcus on the shoulder. Marcus gave a scowl and pried his fingers off.

Antonin fished a few pieces of paper out of his pocket and waved them in front of Marcus face.

"Puddlemere-Arrows match tickets. I believe it is the match that decides this season's League champions" Antonin said smugly.

Marcus made a derisive snort. He'd given up on Quidditch long ago. He would not be influenced. Then he decided, to heck with it, and grabbed the tickets. They were tickets for three seats in a prime location, and really, this was an offer that could not be ignored.

So this was how at seven o'clock in the evening, they were seated in the Nottingham Stadium. The match was due to start anytime soon, and the spectators were buzzing with excitement. Marcus adjusted his Omnioculars while Rabastan attempted to steal a little of Antonin's cotton candy.

"Oliver Wood's good, but he'll never beat Damon Lyndon." A bright voice chirped from behind them.

Marcus turned around to find out whom those people were. As far as he knew, no one of his generation or younger knew about Damon Lyndon. His father had never heard of him either, so two young boys who knew about Lyndon was very unusual indeed.

They looked about six years old, who upon seeing Marcus stare at them, asked him what he was looking at, so Marcus just shrugged and turned back. One of them even went on to mention Hayden Osric Dallon, Japheth Graham, J.S. Naresh, Joscelind Wadcock, Leandra Smith and Deiondre Johnson, all of whom Marcus noted, were part of the 1933-1937 Puddlemere team along with Lyndon. They were Puddlemere's best team, but in 1937 the team was forced apart, and now almost forgotten. Marcus had heard many different versions of why the team broke up, but mostly it had to do with the sudden disappearances of skipper Damon Lyndon and Hayden Osric Dallon.

Marcus was doing all he could to not turn behind and strike up some conversation with the two boys behind him. He no longer cared about Quidditch, he reminded himself.

"Hey. You there. Did you go to Hogwarts?"

Marcus froze. Were they talking to him? He half-turned his head to check.

"Did you?"

Marcus nodded dumbly.

The two boys grinned.

"Was Wood in school at about the same time as you?"

Marcus didn't know what to say. He thought that maybe, he should lie.

"Um, kind of. But we were in different houses, you know. So I don't know much about him. And I didn't pay much attention to the Quidditch matches. I'm not a big fan of Quidditch really. They dragged me here." Marcus jabbed a thumb in the direction of Antonin and Rabastan.

The boys looked disappointed. Then they asked him to tell him all he knew about Wood anyway.

Marcus realised how this was a good opportunity for him to ruin Wood's reputation in front of his young fans. But he decided against it. It wouldn't do for him to ruin the expectations of these innocent children. Besides, anything bad about Wood would be untrue.

"Um, we were in different years? I know a lot of girls chased after him. And um, he was obsessed with Quidditch?" Marcus offered lamely.

"Ah well, never mind then."

"So do you two um, dream of playing for Puddlemere in the future?" Marcus felt really stupid asking that question.

"Well, of course. I want to take over as Keeper when Wood retires!" Boy On Left said.

"And I'll be a Chaser!" The other one said.

Marcus said something unintelligible, then turned back. The players for Puddlemere United and the Appleby Arrows were getting into their starting positions. Marcus suddenly felt a rush of excitement, and he badly wanted to jump and cheer like the rest of the stadium.

His heart leapt when Wood caught the Quaffle from the Arrows Chaser trying to score. Then he had to remind himself all over again not to get overexcited. He felt slightly jealous. He might have been able to make it in to a minor League team, maybe even the Cannons in he was desperate enough. He could have, he could still, but he would never. He would very much have liked to blame it all on Wood, and Wood could be blamed, but truthfully speaking, it was his own childish stubbornness that didn't allow him to play Quidditch anymore.

One of the boys behind him commented that because Wood had no Chaser that was a good enough match, his standard would actually drop. It was true, and it made Marcus feel very indignant. But since he had already made his choice and was sticking to it, he decided to keep quiet.

But then he couldn't help it and told the two boys about the other Chasers in Hogwarts, the ones that he was more familiar with. He told them about Pucey, Montague, Warrington, Johnson, Spinnet and Bell. He mentioned that they had a lot of potential, and most of them had recently graduated from Hogwarts, so they should be the ones to look out for. The two boys appeared to be very interested, and so Marcus offered his predictions about which teams the Chasers he mentioned were likely to go to. They asked if Angelina Johnson was related to Deiondre Johnson, but Marcus didn't know. It made him think about it though.

Puddlemere won. Anything short of a victory for Puddlemere was considered unacceptable by fans nowadays. Marcus realised how much pressure the Puddlemere team must be facing, especially Wood. Marcus' heart ached a little at the thought of a sleep-deprived Oliver, and then he was horrified at himself for thinking of Wood in a more-than-platonic manner.

They left the stadium, but right before they went off on their own, Antonin suddenly told Marcus that he would be officially 'enrolled' tomorrow, and he would have to be in his full Death Eater robes.

Marcus blanched. He was getting enrolled the next day and he only got fitted for his robes today?

He fished out Nott's required reading list and wondered if he was supposed to know each of the books inside out. And wondered what he was supposed to do at the meeting. Was there any strange initiation rite? And Marcus almost wished he hadn't given up on Quidditch.

*

Marcus woke up. It was Sunday, and also the day where he was going to be 'enrolled'. He wasn't too sure about the whole process. He realised how much Antonin hadn't taught him, and hoped that it wasn't too important.

An owl flew in and Marcus received his Death Eater robes. He stared at them, and he was rather reluctant to put them on. He also received a letter similar to the one that led to his being a Death Eater. It told him to be at Mr. Toogood's storage room at seven o'clock, and to claim object number five hundred and forty-one, and it burned itself right after Marcus had finished reading.

Marcus then owled Antonin, asking him for help. Marcus didn't know if he was fully prepared for this evening, and he desperately needed help. Antonin came over and told him that everything will be OK, and that all will go well. His assurances made Marcus all the more nervous, but Antonin dismissed his fears and told him to just do what he was supposed to.

Marcus wasn't even sure about what he was supposed to do. Then he realised that he had gone looking for the wrong person, so he hurriedly tried to brush Antonin away, and he then went looking for Percy.

When Percy saw Marcus he breathed a sigh of relief. He asked Marcus if he felt ready, or prepared, and Marcus said no. Then Percy decided to let Marcus in his apartment and they had a nervous breakdown from realising how much they didn't know. They spent the rest of the afternoon exchanging whatever pieces of information they had, and when it was five-thirty they became nervous all over again.

Percy packed his Death Eater robes neatly into a suitcase then followed Marcus to his apartment to so that Marcus could bring his robes. Following that, they went to Mr Toogood's storage centre, and they pulled on their robes and claimed item number five hundred and forty-one. It contained their Death Eater masks, and when they took it out of the box they were Portkeyed to the house they were at where they were first invited to become a Death Eater.

The room was filled with Death Eaters getting ready. It suddenly struck Marcus how ordinary the situation was. The Death Eaters were getting ready at the last minute, and this was something like a welcome ceremony, wasn't it?

"There was a reason why I didn't tell you certain things," Antonin came over, seeming rather ticked off. "No one told you to go looking for Percy."

Marcus gulped and nodded. He hadn't even been an official Death Eater and he was already making mistakes. Marcus felt a need to run away from all this suddenly. He always felt a need to run, to go someplace faraway where he could avoid his impending doom. He exchanged an uncomfortable look with Percy before putting on his mask, and the Death Eaters hurried them out of the room into what must have been the 'garden' of the house they were in.

The 'garden' had an old yew tree in the left corner. Marcus found it too ominous, and he really, really wanted to run. The rest of the Death Eaters stood in a circle, and Avery told them to stand aside for now.

They stood there, and moments later, the Dark Lord arrived. Marcus' first instinct was to scream. He didn't of course. But his heart was pounding, and he desperately wished to cling to Percy, who seemed to be very calm and still. The Dark Lord removed the hood covering his head to reveal skin that was a deathly white, and blood red eyes that contrasted the bloodlessness of his skin.

Marcus had never paid much attention to the War and he hardly knew anything about it. The Dark Lord was just someone who was incredibly unfortunate to him, and never in his entire life did he ever think of himself as a supporter of You-Know-Who.

And here he was, about to become a member of the elite group of Dark supporters. But then again, his future stopped being predictable when he was about ten years old.

"There are many things we have to do today," the Dark Lord started. "But first, we welcome the new recruits."

Somehow Marcus expected there to be some clapping. There wasn't any, of course. Voldemort walked over to them, and stopped.

Marcus noted that the Dark Lord didn't quite so walked as he glided. His feet did touch the floor in some kind of pattern, but his upper body remained as still as ever. The Dark Lord stared at--no, into, them, and Marcus became increasingly uncomfortable.

"Why are you here?" His voice was hypnotic yet commanding, and one might even consider it ethereal.

It then struck Marcus that he was supposed to answer the question, but he didn't know what to say. He had no choice. But wait, he did have a choice. It was either this or death. He picked this.

But before Marcus could answer, the Dark Lord looked at him and nodded slightly.

"As do the rest," he said.

Of course, the Dark Lord could read minds. Marcus was oddly reminded of Dumbledore, and of the time where he had to see Dumbledore because he had to repeat a year. He had walked out of the exam hall because he felt that the invigilators were being unfair. He decided to boycott the NEWTs, and Dumbledore had called him to his office to speak to him.

Dumbledore owled his parents, and it was decided that Marcus had to repeat a year. Marcus was also made to set some goals and targets, which he had to achieve in the following year. As an incentive, Professor Snape had suggested that Marcus keep the position of Quidditch Captain.

The Dark Lord suddenly turned to him. "I would appreciate it if you pay attention, Marcus Flint."

Marcus was shocked out of his wits. He straightened his posture and suppressed any stray thought of his. It seemed like a quiet affair, really. The Dark Lord was conversing in a one-sided manner with the neat row of Death Eaters.

The Dark Lord turned back to them, and stretched out Marcus' left hand. Marcus was somewhat surprised that they didn't have to make some silly oath or swear their allegiance. The Dark Lord pushed back the sleeves of his robes, then with one hand holding Marcus' left hand and with the other hand, pointed a wand to Marcus left forearm.

"Morsmordre."

Marcus's arm instinctively jerked backwards, but the Dark Lord held it in place. Slowly, the image of a skull with a serpent coming out from the mouth burned across his forearm. It glowed a bright green, and when the image was complete it darkened to black.

The Dark Lord stepped over to Percy, and did the same. Marcus noted that he did not ask Percy any questions at all. From what Marcus just experienced, the Dark Mark process hurt but Percy made no attempt to remove his hand.

When he was done, the Dark Lord gave a cold smile then asked them to follow him. He stopped in front of some Death Eaters and told Marcus to join the circle. He did the same for Percy further down.

Marcus supposed that he was doing things by alphabetical order, and if you matched the Death Eater to his position they were in alphabetical order.

He turned to Rodolphus, whom he told to go "bring the 'spy'".

Marcus felt rather at a loss. He had no idea what was going on. Rodolphus entered the house, which was rather Victorian in décor. Rodolphus emerged moments later with someone tagging behind him. When they moved nearer, Marcus realised it was Adrian Pucey and almost yelped in shock.

"One of you has attempted to plead with me, and I have thus decided to be merciful. But we cannot let him go so freely. What say you, Mulciber?"

Marcus heard no reply, but apparently the Dark Lord did.

"Do you think that I am so desperate for followers? That I just let any one person in? Sorry to disappoint you then."

With that, he pointed his wand at Mulciber, who promptly broke down and begged for mercy.

"Stand up. I haven't done anything yet," the Dark Lord said derisively.

"Your nephew has too soft a heart."

Marcus could see Adrian's eyes darting about nervously.

"And yet, I sense he will be able to prove himself a valuable member."

Adrian looked stricken with fear, and Marcus somehow felt the need to run up and protect Adrian.

"For the grace I display I could qualify for a saint."

Marcus could feel everyone wincing in terror.

"It's outrageous. I am actually listening to a subordinate. Preposterous, I say."

He walked over to where Rodolphus and Adrian were standing.

"Go back to your place," he snapped at Rodolphus.

He yanked Adrian's left arm out and performed the Dark Mark process. Adrian cringed a little, trying to resist the urge to draw his arm back. He roughly shoved Adrian into his place in the circle, and told Mulciber to take him, then.

After that he dismissed the Death Eaters in a dismissive manner, and went into the house, robes billowing in a typical villainy fashion. Everyone stood in place for a while, then the tension finally eased and they started to talk.

Marcus went right up to Adrian and asked him what he was doing around here. Adrian appeared to be very terrified, and after some hesitation began to tell Marcus how he ended up here.

Adrian had suspected that his father was doing some improper business, as he always seemed to have strange people enter his shop and discuss things secretively. So one day, he decided to hide himself in the room they always went into to try eavesdrop, but was caught.

Marcus began to tell him off for being silly. Adrian's father owned a shop in Knockturn Alley and all Knockturn Alley businesses weren't very legal. What did it matter to him what his father was doing? But Marcus stopped when he saw that Adrian looked so sad and guilty. He felt bad for him, and asked if he was well, all right?

Adrian nodded meekly and said that he was lucky his uncle was a Death Eater. Marcus felt like throttling him all over again. For all he knew Adrian just ruined his future, right when he was fresh out of school and when his future was supposed to be at its brightest.

Marcus asked Adrian what he was doing now, for an occupation, and Adrian seemed to brighten up a little and told him that he worked in a bakery in Hogsmeade. And Marcus told him off again. Adrian Pucey, who had achieved "Outstanding" in all his N.E.W.T.s, was wasting the rest of his life away baking little pastries?

Adrian looked apologetic all over again, and Marcus felt so exasperated. He just couldn't see how and why someone with that much potential would choose to work in a bakery. A bakery! A fucking bakery! Marcus was frustrated at the fact that Adrian didn't seem to want to develop his talents. There was also the thing about Slytherins being ambitious, and for all Marcus knew, baking silly little pastries was not a way to achieve greatness. Marcus was surprised that Adrian wasn't put in Hufflepuff or something, where he might have belonged.

Marcus suddenly realised that he wasn't particularly ambitious or anything either; he used to be, but not anymore. Then again, all the Death Eaters were probably failed Slytherins, because no Slytherin would show such loyalty to a cause that had such little benefits.

Adrian asked Marcus what Percy was doing around here. And Marcus said he didn't know. They both looked at Percy, and decided that his life must have been really tragic. It struck Marcus that Percy and Adrian had several similarities, in that they were both really smart, were Prefects, model students and for various inexplicable reasons, threw their future away.

Adrian made the suggestion that Marcus should drop by the bakery sometime soon to try the food. And Marcus wanted to cry. Marcus wanted to yell at Adrian for being so stupid, for wasting the rest of his life away baking. Adrian could have gotten himself into the Ministry. Adrian could have become a well-known researcher on magical beasts. Adrian could have been the one to formulate a new potion that could cure previously incurable diseases. Adrian could have made it to a high-ranking League team. Adrian could have done so many things but all he ever wanted to do was to be all nice and happy and domestic, baking stupid little pastries.

Marcus didn't understand, nor could he accept any of Adrian's explanations. It was impossible for someone to only want to bake little pieces of dough. It was, well, outrageous and preposterous, to quote from the Dark Lord.

Mulciber came over to talk to Adrian. And Adrian got a scolding again, which made Marcus feel very guilty. Who was he to have disregarded Adrian's wishes? He felt really bad for telling Adrian off, but he was too scared to apologise to him.

And worst of all, Marcus knew that Adrian would never be able to bring himself to kill anyone. Adrian was so guileless and was such a good friend; if Adrian ever killed someone, even accidentally, he would spend the rest of his life unable to cope with the guilt.

And there was nothing Marcus could do.