Getting the Band Back Together, 8/?
Title: Getting the Band Back Together
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Harry Potter
Universe: Seven Characters (Part 2)
Characters/Pairing: Tonks, Sirius, Snape, Luna, Narcissa, Dobby, Bob the Dementor, others
Genre: Humor/Adventure
Summary: Thanks to a string of unlucky events, Tonks finds herself the latest infiltrator into Lord Voldemort's regime. Will she be able to help the Order in their quest to defeat the Dark Lord, or is the young Auror out of her depth?
Chapter Seven
What is it with evil and ceremonies? Tonks thought to herself. They couldn’t just sit her down, zap her with the wand and be done with it. Oh, no. There was chanting, and special wand movements and the like. Drinking strange liquids from ornate goblets. She was almost getting bored with it all by the time they were finally ready.
Snape was giving her one of those “Snape” looks, where he was equally likely to be showing resent as respect. For some reason, she almost wished that it was respect. It wasn’t like she wanted to be here.
‘Do you promise to serve the Dark Lord willingly, unreservedly, upon pain of torture or death?’ She could have snickered. It was like a wedding vow. Do you, Tonks, take the dark side to be yours for all eternity? Tough question. Tough answer.
‘I do,’ she gulped. And this wasn’t a wedding ring they were about to slip on her finger. A spider-like hand gripped the wand that pressed to her left arm. Under his breath, Voldemort hissed a spell. It sounded like parseltongue. She couldn’t understand a word of it.
He arm was on fire. The pain was edging its way to every edge of her existence, sending her into spasms. Of course, something like this couldn’t be painless, could it?
She didn’t lose consciousness. It was something she was thankful for. It was hard enough joining a new group, meeting new people, without them teasing her about the time she fainted when she got marked.
She sat there, dazed, as most of the Death Eaters eventually left. They didn’t want to hang around and chat.
‘Take her upstairs.’ She heard Voldemort’s voice, but couldn’t see who he was talking to. Compliant, she let whoever it was lead her upstairs, and guide her onto the four-poster bed.
‘Drink this.’ The owner of the oily voice pressed a goblet into her hands, which she drank from as though she was dying of thirst. The world became a little bit clearer.
It was Snape who was sitting across from her now, holding a carafe of whatever potion she had just consumed. In a strange way, she trusted him.
‘I would never have expected you to have such commitment,’ he said. And it was respect he was trying to convey, she realised. She vaguely wondered what he was talking about.
Then, she remembered the ceremony. Remembered the pain.
Almost fearful she hadn’t imagined it, she rolled up her left sleeve, hoping that it wasn’t real.
Upon seeing the fresh, raw Dark Mark, Nymphadora Tonks promptly fainted.