Fraternizing With The Enemy {A Double-Agent Death Eater Tale} - Chapter One

One week later, the plan was in action. Samantha could not believed how fast it had gone. Through certain members of the Order, rumours about Samantha had been spread at the Ministry. Rumours that were meant to attract the Death Eaters' attention. Samantha did not know the full contents of what had been said, but it had been effective enough. Being a skilled witch in addition to being a highly ranked Auror already made her someone Voldemort wouldn't mind seeing him among his followers, these rumours ensured that he believed she wouldn't mind, either.
And so, a couple of days after her conversation with the Minister, the Death Eaters had made contact. A small, dark-haired man introducing himself as Aden Carmichael had pretty much appeared on her doorstep after sending her an owl stating that he would "like a word". It had all run smoothly. The Death Eater had not asked her directly about joining the Dark Lord, but seeing as Samantha knew exactly what she wanted it had not been neccessary. The man went away to consult with his master, believing that he had just made the recruit of the year. And so, a week after her little chat with the Minister, Carmichael had come back to escort her to the current headquarters of the Death Eaters.
"Miss Greenacre, are you ready to leave?" came Carmichael's voice from the living-room. Samantha had disappeared into her office to send her owl with a letter to Minerva McGonnagal that she had written the night before, just confirming that everything was so far so good. After Dumbledore's death, McGonagall had become the new leader for the Order of the Phoenix, and Samantha was under strict orders to send regular progress reports to her. After sending her owl, Apollon, off to Minerva, she quickly joined the Death Eater in the living-room again.
"Yes, I'm ready, Carmichael", she said, not bothering to smile at the man, who quickly placed his arm on her shoulder.
"Then off we go", he sang, and the room instantly vanished to, moments later, be replaced by another, larger, room. Samantha looked around. She had absolutely no idea where she was. They were standing alone in what appeared to be a library. Book-shelves all around her were packed with books and scrolls of parchment. Some of the volumes were ancient-looking with tattered leather bindings, others seemed more recent. She could feel the distinct smell of aging books mixed with something else, something she recognised. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, though. Shivering, Samantha glanced upwards. She could barely glimpse the ceiling and did not dare to take a guess at how high up it would be. The book-shelves appeared to go all theway up to the far-away ceiling. She let out a low whistle. Surely there were thousands of books and scrolls in here. Maybe even tens of thousands...
"I take it my library impresses you, my dear", someone said quietly behind her, sounding amused. Samantha quickly spun around, and so did Carmichael.
"Master", the man said reverently, bowing. Samantha quickly copied him.
"Indeed, my lord, it is magnificent", she said softly, raising her head again to meet Voldemort's scarlet eyes. He nodded, keeping her eyes locked in his.
"I am glad that you should think so. I have all too many fools about me who do not appreciate its' glory, its' power. The power of knowledge...", Voldemort said in almost a whisper, maintaining eye-contact with Samantha.
She was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable. She felt like his eyes were penetrating her defences, gazing into her very soul... She focused intently on closing her mind. She must keep him out at all costs... but it was so difficult, she thought, staring into those vivid eyes. The eyes of the most powerful Dark wizard, ever, she mused. Powerful eyes, the eyes of power, like an endless ocean of fire, of blood... No! Samantha! Focus! This is SO not the time to drown in someones eyes. But I can't pull away, I am locked... Samantha felt that she was fighting for her sanity, her soul, locked in battle with those eyes. She knew if she remained like this for much longer, she would indeed drown. However, her instincts told her very firmly not to look away.
Suddenly, Voldemort surprised her by pulling away, turning his burning gaze to the Death Eater beside her.
"You may leave, Carmichael. You will tell the others to remain at the headquarters. Soon, there may be someone they should meet."

.
The delicate emphasis on the word "may" sent shivers down Samanthas spine. What if he would see through her? What if he already did? Yet she was sure her mind had remained properly closed...
Carmichael bowed silently, and swiftly left the room, leaving her alone with him, with those eyes. She could feel them on her again, but to avoid making eye contact so soon again she pretended to examine the room.
"There must be thousands of books in here", she said unneccessarily, quickly glancing at Voldemort. A huge mistake, of course. Once again she felt herself pinned to the spot by that stare. She felt herself shrink before his eyes, sensing the terrible power of the mind that lay beyond, forcing herself not to give in to the tide that was threatening to pull every secret out of her, to him.
"Indeed there are thousands, or tens of thousands more like, miss Greenacre, or may I call you Samantha?"
The Dark Lord raised a non-existent eyebrow in query. She nodded feebly, unable to speak. Voldemort noticed this and took a step closer, smirking.
"Do I make you nervous, my dear?" he whispered softly.
Samantha was completely at loss for words. Idiot, she cursed herself, don't let him have such power over you. He's just a man, and a rather funny-looking one at that. No, funny is the wrong word, of course. There is nothing remotely funny about him. But the eyes... They're not anything like funny, they're magnificent... Oh for gods sakes, Samantha, pull yourself together or you're dead. And stop acting like a moron, say something, anything, NOW!
"A-a little, my lord", she whispered, cursing herself again for showing herself so weak. "It is a little frightening, my lord, to stand in the presence of such power, such brilliance", she continued, a little steadier.
She hated herself for saying this, for sucking up to this evil man, this murderer. And yet, ske knew, her last statement had been completely honest. The power of the Dark Lord's mind frightened her. "Frightens" doesn't even begin to describe it. Scares the crap out of is more like it. Oh my god, I can't do this. I'm not strong enough. How the bloody hell am I supposed to match wits with Lord Voldemort? He'll win, and I'll surrender to those eyes, and then I'm dead. No! Samantha! Damn it, pull yourself together, girl, you can do this, just don't look at him so much, don't... Those eyes, they scared her, too. She was drowning in them again, it was like they were locked together... She didn't know where she ended and he began... NO SAMANTHA! Close your mind, close it, close it! It took all of her will-power to keep the doors to her mind firmly shut, keeping those eyes out. She had no strength left to avert her eyes. Then, thank god!, Voldemort looked away, leaving her drained, powerless, something which he seemed to know and enjoy immensely.
"Now, Samantha, let us not beat around the bush any longer. My sources tell me that you wish to join me. Is this true?"
"Y-yes, my lord", she stammered, her mind flooding with the relief of being released from his gaze.
"Very well. You are not lying. I trust that your motives for this are honest. If not, I will know, and the consequenses will not be attractive. However, I have no reason to believe that I will ever have cause to make you face such consequenses", said Voldemort. He seemed to be expecting some kind of answer, however.

.
"No, my lord-, I mean... Thank you. I..."
Dear lord, I can't seem to speak in more than two-word sentences today... I sure hope I will be able to get a grip on myself once I've gotten to know the guy better. Ew! No! Not like that! Oh god, that is just disturbing... Bloody perfect, now I have to deal with images of what that would look like as well as trying to stay alive... No! Stop! Focus, Samantha, he's talking to you!
"- and I expect you to know that vowing yourself to me is not something you want to do before considering it carefully. I will expect your full servitude, for as long as you live. I will expect you to give everything to carry out my orders. You shall put aside your background, everything you have called your life and serve me. Once you are initiated, your life is in my hands. You are to live and die, if need be, at my will. Once you have pledged yourself to me, you will prove your value as my servant. You will show yourself worthy of standing among my true family."
Samantha nodded.
"However, I am sure you have taken these matters into considering before coming here, I can tell you are no fool. Then I take it you are ready?"
Samantha nodded again, not knowing what she was agreeing to. She felt her stomach clench with fear. She had no idea what was to come next. Was she to be given the Dark Mark? Did she have to do some kind of test? Her thoughts were interrupted by Voldemort capturing her gaze again, stepping closer. He was now only feet away from her.
"Samantha Greenacre" he said in a low yet strong voice which echoed across the room "will you be the humble and loyal servant of Lord Voldemort?"
All around them she could feel something descending, like an invisible mist, the very essence of power... Her ears were filled at the same time with a thundering silence and a deafening rush of words. All she could see was the burning scarlet of those vivid eyes. Fire and blood...
"I... I will", said Samantha.
"Will you place your life in the hands of the Dark Lord, giving up the life that you have once known to serve him, to live and die at his will?"
"I will."
"Are you willing to put aside the laws that the weak fools who dare to call themselves wizards abide by, and listen only to the command of your master?
"I am."
"Then I, Lord Voldemort, welcome you, Samantha Greenacre, among my servants. May your loyalty never waver."
And through the haze, Samantha felt something white-hot bearing into her arm. It was a sensation she had never experienced, like something being forced into her soul, becoming a part of it... It was pain like she had never felt it. The burning began on her forearm, but the fire spread rapidly in her body. She was burning, she would burn to death... She could hear herself screaming, her voice coming from a great distance, echoing over thousands of miles of burning, blood-red ocean... She was aware of nothing but the pain, and the red and herself fighting with all her strength to keep her secrets locked in the back of her head, fighting against the tide... Fighting for the small part of herself that must remain her own...
And then it stopped. The spell lifted, and she fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. She could see clearly again the room around her, she could hear her own ragged breathing, she could hear Voldemort chuckling softly. The air around her was no longer humming with the deadly force of Voldemort's power. The fire in her body subsided, retiring back to her forearm, growing fainter until it left only a faint tingling there. She tried to get up, but felt she didn't even have power enough to raise her arm to look at it, and even less to stand on her own two feet. She tried to raise her head, but it was heavy as lead. Slowly, she tried to steady her breathing, but instantly felt like she was being strangled. The room started to blur. The last thing she heard before everything disappeared was the voice of her new master.
"May your loyalty never waver, Samantha."

So, a Death Eater, huh? Can't shake the feeling that Sam isn't quite the loyal servant Voldemort expects... Anyway, if you feel you've got the time, please message and tell me what you think, or rate, or both if you like. It would make a certain tormented writer very, very happy... *flashes manic smile and looks shiftily around*