Disclaimer: None of the characters in the story are mine.

A/N: The idea of this story was born before I read the sixth and seventh books, so some things might not be compatible. I am also quite aware of the fact, that my writing is not perfect, so reviews and criticism are welcome.

My name shall live on.

I stood here like it was a usual Thursday night, a routine meeting. Black Death Eater's garb was covering my body, a pale mask was hiding my face and my long hair was hidden by a dark hood. In the circle there were many more like me – just like in an ordinary meeting.

But this was everything, but an ordinary meeting. Maybe it was for the rest of my comrades, but it wasn't for me. The reason, why this night was so out of ordinary was standing behind my back. I could feel his body tensing and trembling from fear and anticipation of what was to come. But despite of everything he stood tall and proud. He was dressed in a robe so alike to mine, sewn from the same fabric, by the same seamstress as mine and given to him by me. He had no mask, nor hood, yet his eyes were blindfolded – again by me.

Though there weren't any elements, which could reveal our relation, everyone who cared to look at us saw us for what we were: father and son. The scenery was old: I had stood behind my father in the same position only decades ago, I had felt the emotions he was feeling now; I had experienced the pain he was about to experience and that night I had cried for the last time in my life, just as I knew my son would now. Every word I had said to him, everything I had done to him and for him had been to prepare him for this very moment. Failure was not an option now. Failure would mean death, and my son would not die. Not tonight.

And there he came. There came the Dark Lord. He walked around the circle of his most faithful men and women, standing in front of each and every one of them, watching them lower their eyes and kneel, and then raise their heads just enough to kiss a ring on his extended, skeleton-like hand. As he approached me, I could feel his magic rushing through my own veins. I fell to my knees, and bought my lips to his hand and pressed them against the cool metal of his ring, inhaling as much of his essence as I could. As he walked away to others, I could still feel his enthralling presence in me.

After finishing the round, the Dark Lord went to the centre of the circle and motioned us all to rise. He had no need to announce the nature of this particular gathering, because everyone knew what it was about. This was the night, when my son would become a man.

My eyes met Dark Lord's snake like ones and he slightly nodded, giving me the sign to bring my son forth. I lowered my eyes and turned to face my son. My fingers rose to his face and lightly touched his forehead, telling him to follow me. I turned around again and slowly approached my Lord. With every step I took closer to him, his presence got stronger and stronger and when I finally stood in front of him I was mesmerised. Without a word I kneeled and waited for further instructions. I was told to stand and remove the blindfold of my son's eyes. And so I did. My fingers masterfully undid the knot and the scrap of cloth fell to the ground. With my fingertips I lightly touched his long hair and then returned me to my place in the circle. I had done everything I could. Now he was on his own at the mercy of the Lord. And he was merciless.

Everything went on as I thought and remembered it would. My son kneeled in front of his new Master for the first time in his life, his body now shaking from the new feelings, he was experiencing. And then with a touch of our Lord's finger on his forehead he stopped shaking, his body swoon into ecstasy. In few moments he swore himself to the Dark Lord in mind and flesh to do his will as long as he draws breath. The last words of the Death Eater pledge was said loud or mouthed by everyone present: everyone wanted the Lord to know, that they acknowledged that his was the kingdom, the power and the glory.

As my only child extended his left arm for the final test I fought the urge to turn my eyes away. I suddenly knew that nothing I had done in the past could have prepared him for this exact moment. This was the first thing he would have to do solely on his own. The only thing I could do is watch and that was why I could not venture to turn my eyes away. So I looked.

The Dark Lord took hold of my son's arm and suddenly pushed his wand against the pale skin. My right hand unconsciously touched my left arm, where my Dark Mark was, as my son's screams tore what remained of my heart apart. As the Dark Lord continued to draw the line of the Dark Mark on his unmarked skin I remembered the rays of excruciating pain shooting through my body, invisible flames burning my muscles and an unseen hand tearing away a piece from what I had been. I knew that when the Dark Lord would be finished with my son, there would be no more strength in his lungs to scream and no more water in his eyes to cry.

And finally, after what had felt like eternity to me, the Dark Lord let go of my son's arm, letting him sink to the ground and announced the meeting to be over. In that very moment I tore off my mask and my hood and rushed out of my place and got to the broken, trembling body of my child. For the first and probably the last time in my life I dared to wrap my hands around him, whisper soothing words in his ear and tell him everything is going to be alright even though it wasn't.

As I held the sobbing form of my son in my arms I realised, that if death would come for me this very moment, I would faithfully face it and die with pride in my hearth, I had seen my son become a man. And with that I knew – my name shall live on.