alt_severus | To those who have taken the Dark Lord's mark

To those who took the Dark Lord's mark long ago; to those who have recently taken the Dark Lord's mark, to those who have been told they are in contention for the Dark Lord's mark; to Sarah Yaxley, Jason Montague, Lana Sandoval-Pennifold, Ned Pennifold, Ptolemy Baddock, Hydra Lestrange, Seamus Finnigan, Padma Patil; to those who have dreamed of being elevated in the Dark Lord's estimation or wished for the honour of receiving the Dark Lord's mark: look around you. Look closely. It is not too late. It is never too late.

The Dark Lord tells you, when you are marked, that you are his. That you have been chosen. That once you are sworn to him, there is no other choice, and you must do as he says or your life is forfeit. I write to you as living proof that is not the case.

Lily and James Potter died because of a prophecy that someone overheard and brought to the Dark Lord's attention: that as long as Harry Potter lived, the Dark Lord could not be defeated. In service to that prophecy, the Dark Lord killed Lily and James Potter, adopted Harry Potter, named him Harry Marvolo, and raised him as his heir. The prophecy the Dark Lord's actions were based on was a mishearing. I know that, because I too heard the prophecy as it was being delivered. I heard the full version, however, while the one who brought it to the Dark Lord's attention only heard a portion.

I will not tell you the true prophecy; prophecy is a slippery thing, and is best kept among those who have a need to know. I will tell you that the prophecy states that Harry Potter is fated to be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. You have heard Harry vow that he will do so; prophecy agrees that he is able — fated — to succeed.

When I heard the prophecy — when the Dark Lord's mishearing of the prophecy caused him to murder someone who had once been a very dear friend, someone my choices had driven me away from but for whom I had never stopped caring — I realised my mistake in swearing to the Dark Lord's service, and I went to Albus Dumbledore and pledged my life and my honour in service to the Order of the Phoenix. For a year, I served as Dumbledore's spy in the Dark Lord's ranks, working to undermine his efforts at every opportunity, while he worked to perfect his control over the magical community and over Britain itself, while he worked to eliminate all traces of the prophecy he was allowing to guide his actions. A year later, I misspoke in the Dark Lord's presence and caused him to realise I, too, had heard the prophecy; he sent me to Azkaban to buy my silence and keep me from spreading the truth of what prophecy states will come to be.

To this day, the Dark Lord believes I went into Azkaban as his faithful servant, and only turned away from that service due to the indignity of being imprisoned for twelve years. That is as far from the truth as it is possible to be. I realised the truth of the Dark Lord's failures years and years ago, and ever since, I have followed the dictates of my conscience — belated though they might be, and that is a failure for which I continue to atone — in seeking to bring about his downfall.

Those of you who follow him now have undoubtedly had a moment like that moment I had, a moment where you looked at what you were being ordered to do and thought: this is not right. You will undoubtedly have another, and another, and another, as the Dark Lord grows more desperate and tightens his control over the few people who have not seen his irrationality for what it truly is, the last gasp of a madman whom Fate Itself says must be defeated.

Listen to those thoughts. Listen to your conscience. Even if yours is as stunted and warped as mine once was, it is not too late to do the right thing. Listen to the part of you that notices the divide between the rhetoric and the reality. Listen to the part of you that shows you the rotten wood underneath the gilt of the Dark Lord's glorious rhetoric. Listen.

Listen, and make the right choices.