The Darkest Light (Harry Potter)

Crimson

Nightfall came faster than Bree, or any of the teens had wanted.

She sat next to her father at the long table; wearing a simple black dress, her long chestnut hair was loosly falling down her back. She let her eyes wander to Lucius, who was sitting next to his father. He gave her a small smile, making her stomach do flip-flops.

Lucius was also receiving his dark mark tonight-- though, he didn't seem as frightened as his two friends.

Was Bree even his friend anymore? Friends don't kiss. Do they?

He couldn't believe he had even done it, but she didn't seem to mind... In fact, to his surprise, she had kissed him back. Was it possible she felt the same?

All thoughts of kissing Bree left his mind when her father rose from his seat, causing the room to fall silent.

"Welcome, my friends. Tonight, is a special night-- as many of you are receiving the dark mark; my daughter, Bree, will also be taking the oath."

Her father turned the rooms attention on her, which was uncomfortable.

It was true; Bree had made the decision to become a death eater.

Because there is no good, or evil. There is only power; and those too weak to seek it.

"Now, remember, once you become a death eater, there is no going back. You will serve me until the end of your days."

The room remained silent.

"Ahh, Abraxas, I'd like you and your son to start the evening off." Voldemort said coolly, motioning them to join he and his daughter at the head of the table.

"Hold out your arm, Malfoy." Voldemort instructed, taking his wand and pointing in on his inner forearm.

Abraxas Malfoy flinched, as the dark print began to take place on his arm; taking the form of a snake coming out of a skull. It started to bleed, causing Bree to look away from the scene. When it was finished, it was rather beautiful, in an odd way. Abraxas held out his arm to inspect his new brand, smirking, pleased with himself.

Then Lucius stood where his father had moments ago; glancing at Bree occasionally. Bree was focused on him, and winced once her father pressed the wand onto his arm. Lucius made a small noise of pain, as the wand dug into his flesh-- leaving the once pale skin, crimson.

Once it was over, Bree locked eyes with her friend; seeing the pain in his eyes.

Next was Chloe. The small teen walked towards her friends father, trying to conceal her fear the best she could. Bellatrix looked as though she might fly out of her seat and across the table to punch Bree's father in the face for hurting her best friend.

Chloe was the first to cry out in pain.

Her screams were terrifying for her friends to hear, wishing they could help, but knowing they couldn't do anything was devistating. She screamed louder as the mark started to form, imprinting her flawless skin. Her mother looked away, not being able to see her daughter in such pain.

It wasn't much longer before Voldemort finished her mark. Chloe gripped her freshley wounded arm, wincing at all the blood. She sat next to her mother, sniffeling, trying to conceal her tears.

Bellatrix had never felt more pain in her life.

Bree felt ill.

She was next.

She had just witnessed her best friends take part in something truly evil, and now it was her moment to join them.

She rose from her chair, giving her father a small smile-- letting him know she wanted this.

Bree held out her arm out for her father, placing his wand on her inner forearm, applying light pressure. What came next was the most agonizing pain the girl had ever felt in her life.

It felt as though tiny shards of glass were digging into her flesh, imbedding themselves further into her body. She screamed for her father to stop, but he did not.

As the mark took its place, the pain became unbearable-- as though he was ripping the flesh from her bones. She felt the room spin around her, faces of her friends and father's followers became blurred.

Bree looked down to her mangled arm; except, it wasnt mangled. There was a light coating of crimson, but her arm was still intact. She was completely dumbfounded. Was the intense torture all in her head?

Her father finished the mark and embraced his daughter in a hug, congratulating her.

Bree wiped the tears from her face; being careful not to touch her arm.

She stared down at the tiny mark. It was rather beautiful, and reminded her of death. She smiled adoringly at the sign of Lord Voldemort.

Everything was about to change for Bree and her friends-- and she knew she chose the right side, the winning side.