Death Eater

By Anterastilis

Summary: Death Eater. “To eat death” Musings on what it means to be a Death Eater. Written pre HBP- and DH-revelations.

Rating: PG-13

Death Eater. To eat death. The terms have different connotations for different people. When one is sworn to Voldemort's service, one kills in a way most horrific--an innocent is taken and killed by having both their life and magical forces drained. The process is most painful and is horrible to look upon. The Death Eater acolyte absorbs the power. Hence the name Death Eater.

We eat death. We spit on its name. We laugh in its face. It is the one thing above all that we fear. A contradiction, no? Yet that is the way of things. That is the way of the Death Eaters. We beg for mercy, yet we show none.

To the Death Eater, the term means freedom, power, invincibility. To our victims, it is fear. To our enemies, it is something hated above all.

My first kill was the night that I was inducted in Voldemort's service. A young muggle-born witch, only just finished at Hogwarts. Blonde hair, nearly white. Icy blue eyes. Even in chains she carried herself with a dignity that was beyond even the most proud of us. She never screamed. She never moaned. We took her life, but we failed in taking her dignity. She died with her pride intact--even after being raped repeatedly. To this day, her lifeless eyes haunt me, her hate-filled eyes follow me in the shadows. I will never forget her.

That night, I absorbed her energies. I felt the power fill me. I knew then exactly what it meant to eat death. I relished in it. The glee was written all over my face as the sensations washed over me.

I did it again two weeks later.

Then again.

That last time, again my victim was a girl. Only seven years old, but very powerful. Powerful enough that Voldemort approved her use. As the first, she never screamed. That time, the sensations did not empower me. I returned home and threw up. I did not leave my bed for a week. Thankfully, Voldemort did not call for me.

The little girl was different somehow. Her life too innocent. I felt her death in a way I have never felt another's. In that moment, I knew that I had learned an entirely new meaning for the phrase, "eat death". I cannot explain it. I rolled over and began to sob as the memories came over me.

At the end of the week, I apparated to Hogsmeade and walked slowly up to Hogwarts. I met with Dumbledore and told him everything. In return, he made me his. My life will never belong to me again--I gave that up when I turned to Voldemort in the beginning.

I will kill again. I will even absorb others' energies. But never again will I eat death. To this I swear upon the name of Slytherin.

I, Severus Septimius Snape, swear upon the name of Salazar Slytherin that I never again shall eat death. I swear, upon the honour of the House of Slytherin, my loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix.

Severus dipped his quill into his ink and signed his name. He took out his wand and waved it over the parchment containing the oath. A green light danced over it and him. It was done. He had bound himself to Dumbledore's keeping.