The fifteen-year-old wizard bowed low before the Dark Lord. He kept his anger at the world and all of those in it behind a tight mask of stoicism. The young man presented his left arm without hesitation, wanting the power that the Mark would bring among his peers. Finally he would be respected and feared.

The Mark burned into his pale skin painfully, but he refused to acknowledge the sensation. It would pass soon enough and he would not show weakness before his new Master.

Minutes later he stood in a dark room. With a sneer of superiority, the fifteen year old muttered a curse that would end the life of a young child. He watched, unmoved, as the warm body hit the ground never to move again. It had been at the direction of his new Master that he had acted thus.

***

The fifteen-year-old wizard watched in horror as the Dark Lord approached. He kept his anger at the world and at his situation in check behind a mask of stoicism. The young man raised his left arm without hesitation and pointed his wand at the man who had brought him both fame and torture. Greatness and personal loss.

An invasion into his mind seared painfully through his defenses, but he refused to let it take hold. With an almost superhuman push he was able to take back control of his mind and break the Imperius curse. He refused to show weakness before the man who had ruined his life; the young wizard pushed himself up off the floor where he had fallen.

Minutes later he stood in view of the Dark Lord. With a sneer of disgust, the fifteen year old muttered a curse that would end the life of his enemy. He watched in disappointment as the green light of the curse dissipated before reaching the target. His anger and hatred had not been enough to commit the act of murder.