Chapter 43: The Dark Oath

"Welcome, my loyal followers"

The crowd of witches and wizards stood silently. Their eyes were all focused on their master, and not on the four figures beside him.

None of them were masked. The torches floating above their heads cast images upon their faces as they flickered. Images of blood, of bones, of death.

"All of us are here, together. All of us who are free, that is"

One of the wizards, someone Harry didn't know, trembled at that.

"Soon enough, we will all be reunited"

The kneeling figure before Harry moaned.

"For now, we have a celebration. Two promising young wizards are joining our ranks"

The crowd's attention shifted.

Harry recognized some of them. Parents of his friends, Professor Snape.

Others, he had seen around. At platform 9¾, in Diagon and Knockturn Alley.

Many of them were new faces to him.

His mask was hot. Sweat began to run down his forehead.

"And so, in addition to our fine gentlemen, we have guests"

The muggles in the floor were cast into the light. Their hands tied behind their backs, gags in their mouths.

The Dark Lord's wand waved, and the one in front of Draco's gag fell out.

"Please, please-"

"What is your name?"

"John-Jonathan Waksman. Plea-"

"What is your profession, Jonathan?"

"I-I-I'm a pastor. I help the needy. I have a church, ple-"

"Do you have a family, Jonathan?"

The man shook his head, tears running down his face.

"N-I have a sister. Please, I'll do wha-"

"She will miss you terribly"

"NO! Please!" The begging cries ripped from his throat.

"For centuries, muggle religion has been our greatest enemy. They have hunted us down, killed us. Suffer not a witch to live, indeed"

Jonathan was shaking his head, repeating, "no, no, no"

"And why? Because we are better than them! The greatest feats their saints performed, any of us, even fresh from Hogwarts could best. But they fear us. So they kill us"

"Please. I'll do-"

The Dark Lord nodded to Draco.

With a tremor in his voice, the boy spoke.

"Crucio!"

Jonathan screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

Draco lifted the curse, arm shaking.

The crowd watched, a feeling of anticipatory excitement in the air.

"P-p-please. D-don't-"

The Dark Lord nodded again.

' Please don't throw up, Draco'

"Avada Kedavra"

The green light flashed.

Jonathan fell with a crash.

The muggle in front of Harry widened his eyes.

"And so, we take our place, as the rightful rulers of the world. One death at a time"

Draco kneeled.

"Remove the mask"

He took it off. There was a gasp from the crowd as someone recognized him. Lucius and Narcissa stood tall, stoic.

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do so swear myself to your service. I am yours, body, mind, and soul. I will fight at your command, kill at your order, die at your word. I am yours, as long as I may live"

The Dark Lord gently kissed Draco on the forehead, before pulling him up.

"Your oath is accepted. May your service be long and fruitful"

"Thank you, my lord" Draco kept his eyes on the floor as he walked off the stage, and stood beside his parents.

He looked up and met Harry's eyes for an instant.

The gag fell off from the muggle before Harry.

' This is it' . A tremor ran through him.

"What is your name?"

"Oh father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name"

The Dark Lord nodded to Harry.

With slippery fingers, he raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

Absolute pleasure.

The Dark Lord's fist clenched. Harry dropped the spell.

"What is your name?"

"Th-th-thy k-kingdom come, t-thy will-"

"Again"

"Crucio!"

Harry shook as the room filled up with screams.

The fist clenched. The spell dropped.

"What is your name?"

"G-Gordon" the man gasped.

"Well, Gordon. Do you have any family?"

"I have a father"

"He will soon have no son"

"You misunderstand me" Gordon smiled at the Dark Lord. "He is your father, too. All of yours. And he-"

"Again"

"Crucio!"

An eternity seemed to pass before the Dark Lord clenched his fist. Gordon continued screaming even once the spell was over.

"Make him renounce his faith," the Dark Lord said to Harry.

' How the fuck do I do that?'

Still coasting in the waves of ecstasy, he merely nodded. When Gordon calmed down, Harry spoke to him, gently.

"Will you renounce?"

"F-f-for s-six hours did the s-savior s-suffer on th-the c-c-cross. I-I-I can h-handle a bit more"

"Crucio"

He screamed like an animal. Something tore in his throat, and he coughed out blood along with his screams.

Through the pleasure, a troublesome thought came through.

' You're trying to take away his last, his only comfort. What the fuck is wrong with you? '

He dismissed the thought. If he disobeyed the Dark Lord, here, now.

He shivered at the thought.

' Besides, you never got any comfort in their world. Why does he deserve any? '

Harry dropped the spell.

"My lord," he said, half bowing, "may I try something different?"

Voldemort nodded.

' If I fuck this up, I'll look like such an idiot. Oh, fuck. I should have practiced this before, instead of just reading about it'

He jerked Gordon's hands over so that they were now in front of him. Something gave a crack in the man's shoulder at the rough treatment.

He aimed his wand, trying to keep his concentration steady.

' Remember what the book said! If you lose concentration, he could die!'

A part of his mind gibbered at what he was about to try.

"Do you renounce your faith?". His voice was far steadier than his nerves.

"I-I- you're just a boy!"

Hot rage filled him for a second.

' Everyone is watching. You have to do it, now'

Pointing his wand at Gordon's fingertips, he cried out "Capiopellis!"

His concentration stayed steady.

The spell worked.

Gordon's skin began peeling backward off his fingers, in thick, large strips.

It moved backward swiftly, first exposing up to one knuckle, then the second.

Drops of blood fell, the rest stayed pooled in his fingers.

Gordon watched in horror and seemed not to process what was happening. Then he screamed.

' What the fuck am I doing! How can I do this?! It's not-'

Harry's concentration wavered. Just for a second.

A spray of blood erupted from Gordon's hands. It splattered Harry, covering his eyes with a red film. Gordon's screams reached a crescendo.

Sickened, Harry said "Reddiopellis"

The skin curved back down, covering the exploded flesh. It was much paler than it had been before.

Harry almost threw up as a drop of blood rolled into his mouth.

"Cr-Crucio!"

Gordon screamed. Harry smiled.

"Let's see if we can get all the way to your elbows this time"

"NO! No, no, no"

Gordon was shaking his head, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Will you renounce your faith?"

"No"

Harry raised his wand.

"No, no, no, n-"

"Capiopellis"

Through the tortured screams, Harry made out words.

"Reddiopellis"

"P-p-please. J-just kill me already. Just kill me!"

The Dark Lord spoke "not until you renounce your false god, and accept your true rulers"

"N-no. P-please, j-j-just-"

"Crucio"

It took much longer for the screaming to stop after Harry ended the curse.

' Did I break him?'

"St-st-st-stop. Pl-please"

"Only you can make it stop," Harry said, gently.

"Capi-"

"No! I'll do it"

Voldemort gave a small chuckle.

"I r-r-renounce my faith," Gordon said, ugly tears coursing down his face, mingling with the blood.

"I-I accept you as my masters," he said with a sob.

Voldemort nodded to Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Gordon died with a grateful look on his face.

Harry kneeled, suddenly conscious of all the eyes focused on him.

' They're all gonna know exactly what I just did! They're gonna know!'

' It's too late to turn back. Far, far too late'

He pulled off his mask at his Lord's command, revealing a blood and sweat-streaked face. One, that most of the Wizarding world would still be able to recognize.

There was a lot more than one gasp this time.

He clearly heard a man's voice saying "what the fuck!"

He almost laughed.

"I, Harry James Potter, do so swear myself to your service. I am yours, body, mind, and soul. I will fight at your command, kill at your order, die at your word. I am yours, as long as I may live"

Cold lips grazed against his forehead. Directly against his scar.

Long fingers gripped his shoulder as he was hauled up.

"You who have been called my downfall. Your oath is accepted. You are accepted. You are mine! Long may you serve, and may your service always be as exemplary and wondrous as it has been this evening"

"Lucius"

"Yes, my lord"

"Have your elf clean this up. Unless you enjoy having your ballroom polluted with filth"

As Lucius summoned Tufty, who set to her task without the tiniest hint of shock, the Dark Lord continued.

"For now, let us celebrate. We have just inducted fresh blood. Alas, until Hogwarts is more firmly in our grasp, they shall not be marked, but know this"

Fire burned in the Dark Lord's eyes as he spoke to the crowd.

"They are mine. Any who think to gain favor by pushing them down will face my displeasure. They are mine"

Far away from the extravagant celebrations, far away from where Draco and Harry were being clapped on the back and poured cups of burning drinks, stood the Ministry of Magic.

Amongst the lowest floors of the Ministry of Magic could be found the Department of Mysteries.

Within the Department of Mysteries, was the Hall of Prophecy.

No-one entered the Hall of Prophecy, not often at least. Since the banning of soul magic, there had been fewer witches and wizards willing to force their souls into strange and unnatural pathways. Into pathways that allowed them to glimpse a future.

Very, very few people alive even understood how prophecy worked.

Some believed that prophecies were by their very nature self-fulfilling. That by hearing and acting upon a prophecy, one created a chain of events leading to its fulfillment.

Albus Dumbledore subscribed to this view, based on his understanding of divination.

He was wrong.

Some believed that a prophecy spoke absolute truth, of what was to come. Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort subscribed to this view, based on his understanding of divination.

He was wrong.

In every situation, myriads of choices arise. For every choice, a new stream of events occurs, leading to more choices, more possible futures.

A seer was someone who was able to catch a glimpse of the threads that ran through all of these possible futures, no matter the choice.

The threads that ran through almost all possible futures, at least.

There was a reason that the words of a prophecy were always unclear. Always giving room for multiple interpretations. The future is not set in stone.

In a million worlds, the Dursleys did not turn away from their nephew in his time of need.

In a million worlds, Dumbledore did not leave Harry in an orphanage.

In a million worlds, Harry was not raped. Harry was not bullied. He had a healthy childhood. He was loved and cared for. He grew up to be a balanced individual.

In a million worlds, Harry was not sorted into Slytherin.

In a million worlds, Harry did not form a relationship with Quirrel, Snape, or the Malfoys.

In one world, one solitary world, Harry swore to serve the Dark Lord.

It was a pity no one was in the Hall of Prophecies right then. They would, if their senses were attuned correctly, have witnessed something incredible.

Centered around row 97, around a rather unassuming cloudy ball at the end of the row, reality shifted.

There was a feeling like the world moved sideways.

And the little plaque changed. A very slight change, but one with enormous consequences.

It now read.

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D

Dark Lord

And (?)(?)

But no one came down there.

And it would be a long time before someone did.