There was no sign of moonlight that night. A fire, burning in a stone basin in front of the assembled party, was the only light to be had. The hearts of the men and women were dark, and the purpose for which they had gathered was darker still.

Severus Snape kneeled on the rocks of the forest, in a worn looking place that had lost all its grass, presumably from the sheer volume of Dark spells that had been performed here. This spot, a hidden place in the forest where trees had never dared to grow, was a repository of natural Magic, the kind that came from every living thing that had ever lived or breathed. Even though Light rituals would have worked equally well by feeding upon this natural wellspring of power, it seemed as though knowledge of this place was kept strictly within Dark families.

Severus moved his eyes upward just slightly, not enough that anyone could notice the movement; just enough to get a view of what was happening. Along with 11 other men and women, Severus was kneeling in a line. At the far end of the line, he could see others, curving around the edge so that the figures almost met and formed a complete circle. He knew why he was here, but even still, there was a deep undercurrent of anxiety still present. Severus, along with the others, was here to pledge his support to the rising Dark Lord. It involved getting some sort of tattoo; that much he knew from seeing the thing burned onto Lucius’ arm.

Severus lowered his head once more, and awaited for his turn in the line to come. There were 5 “recruits” in front of him, and 6 behind him. Finally, Severus heard a voice from in front of him. “Severus,” it murmured, “it’s time.” He didn’t even have to meet the eyes of the man to know the voice of the follower who had come to fetch him; he knew Lucius Malfoy’s voice quite well indeed.

Severus lifted himself from the ground, and followed next to Lucius into the opening in the circle. His hair was slick, and pulled back into a ponytail tied with a silk ribbon, much like the one Lucius himself wore, except that Lucius hair was so white that it almost seemed to emit light, while Severus’ was as dark as the night around him. Finally, the two reached what was in the middle of the circle. They came to a stop, and Severus was able to lift up his head and see what lay before him.

A tall, cloaked man stood there, holding a wand that seemed to be made of human bone. “Severus,” the Dark Lord hissed, twirling his wand between his long fingers. “Severus Snape, correct?” Severus gave a quick nod of his head, saying nothing. “Good,” Voldemort muttered absently. “Now, look into my eyes.”

Severus had to make a split second decision. Should he keep up the Occlumency shields that had become second nature to him, or should he leave his mind open, with nothing protecting or cloaking it. Later, Severus would agonize over whether he had made the right choice, and what it meant, but at that moment, he had no time to even consider it.

Voldemort looked into his eyes, and all at once, Severus felt him, in his mind, and he was overwhelmed by a sense of vulnerability. Legilimency always involved this sensation, but that by no means meant that Severus enjoyed it. For several moments, Voldemort just stared, seeming lost in the gaze that Severus did not dare to break. Finally, he seemed to come back into himself, and a cruel smile twisted his features.

“Exactly what we need,” he whispered, so only Severus could hear. Voldemort removed his wand, laid it to Severus forearm, and hissed, “Praesto Maleficum.” A black mark began to form on Severus’ arm, with a snake woven about the middle. It didn’t hurt, exactly, or, at least, it wasn’t the physical pain that Severus had expected. The sensation felt similar to that of being Legilimized, except worse, a thousand times worse. Finally, wonderfully, it ended, and Severus began to breathe normally again. “It is done,” the Dark Lord whispered. “Do you have any idea what this mark is?” he continued in the same low tone, with a mocking edge to his words. “Well, I will tell you this. A mark of that nature could not occur unless it found something of it’s kin within your own soul. I didn’t create that mark upon your skin, you realize. I simply pulled the darkness already within you, and made it more…prominent. Besides its more…practical uses.” Voldemort touched his finger to his own mark, and a flinch passed through the circle. “this mark is meant as a visual reminder of that.” With that, Voldemort switched into a louder tone. “It is done.” He let go of his death grip on Severus’ arm, and Severus managed to stumble his way into his new place, among this impenetrable circle of darkness.