It was never the danger that attracted me to the Dark Arts. After a while, once I’d become more involved in the right circles, danger sure kept me there. Despite the fact that it unsettled me. Or perhaps because of it. But that had come later. It was not the thrill of suspense that had me hooked initially.

It was the infinitude.

Dark Magic is an endless land that few dare tread. Its produce is banned but nothing, neither school rules nor Ministry laws can suppress those who defiantly pick its fruits. They are many, these witches and wizards who now and again use illegal magic, in secret, as a tool in their everyday life. Tricks and spells found in the grey area between the permitted and the illegal. Faster, better formulas they can pick up on a quick detour to Knockturn Alley during a busy day of shopping.

Fewer are those who delve deeper into the prohibited realm to discover more knowledge, for the sake of knowledge. Who, without tutoring, explore the information that is kept hidden from them.

The Dark Arts gave me an opportunity to try my intellect, as it hardly received much stimulation elsewhere. The only boundary was the capability of my own brain and, finally, I could escape from myself. Disappear into the vast kingdom that is my intelligence.

The Death Eaters’ request was to be expected. They had already at Hogwarts known which waters I swam in and their message reached me the same day as the owl that carried my NEWT results. I was a loner and I didn’t need a mystical association to confirm my ability. Needless to say, I accepted – this was a new phenomenon to study, another society to decode and not least new magical challenges.

I was no fanatic like Bellatrix Lestrange. I didn’t crave recognition from an idolized master. I was neither a Lucius Malfoy, in search of glory and the establishment of my own heritage as superior. I didn’t need the Dark Lord to replace my absent father, like the boy Crouch. I knew I didn’t belong anywhere and I didn’t need a gang. I simply wanted to explore.

Then I received word that I was to be branded. Of course, it threw me a little. I was surprised, not frightened. And I am still quite sure that I didn’t let it show. I kept my stoicism throughout the act, even though the pain was both excruciating and at times exhilarating.

Afterwards my steps found their way to the Hog’s Head. I still don’t how and when I decided to go there. I suppose I didn’t want to go back home just yet. My heart was still pumping furiously and the rush of adrenaline seemed too precious to waste on a mundane night in by myself.

I ordered a double firewhiskey and scowled at the barman as he grumpily poured the amber liquid into a dusty glass. After I’d paid him a ridiculous amount of money for such a plain beverage I found a table in the corner and sat down, leaning back and stretching my legs.

Here I was, only a mile away from the school where a few years ago I had set course towards this very life. A life of knowledge, of improvement. An existence dedicated to the training of my mind, the honing of my skills. Education. The word held such grandeur, rolling off the tongue with the promise to uncover great secrets, at least for those who were gifted and hungry enough. I could still taste the disappointment from Hogwarts. I had tried for a few years, model student and all, but I had resented it. The dull lessons, the slow progress… I never stopped studying, I just couldn’t bring myself to attend the lessons. I handed in the assignments that I found relevant, failing or receiving top marks. I remembered one Potions paper in particular. Slughorn’s hasty scribble had read: “Interesting, but irrelevant to the actual task. Can’t be graded.� I had felt no fury, no injustice, only indifference. What was to be expected from a man like Slughorn anyway?

I absent-mindedly started stroking the Dark Mark, still sore and swollen. The proof of my loyalty to this group of people, forever burnt into my skin so that no one would ever doubt my devotion to the man himself.

What devotion? I didn’t feel it. I didn’t need to. I was to remain an individual, never to be subjected to do someone else’s bidding. That much was certain.

A shadow suddenly fell across the table and I looked up.

“Drinking alone, I see.� Dumbledore, my former headmaster, was standing in front of me, unsmiling. I raised an eye-brow.

“Unmistakably.� He swiftly conjured up a chair and sat down opposite me.

“Why, yes, Dumbledore, why don’t you accompany me?� I sneered.

“Please, forgive my intruding. I thought you might like a conversation.�

“Ah, you did, did you?� He didn’t answer, unbuttoning his travelling cloak, then hanging it on the back of his chair. He obviously didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

“I know where you’ve spent this night, Severus.�

“Really?�

“Really. The Order of the Phoenix has gained rather sophisticated ways of acquiring information. I am quite proud of us.�

“And so you’ve come here to, what? Scold me?� I could hardly contain my disdain. Here was the man who for seven years had kept me from fulfilling my potential, now obviously overlooking me. He was so full of himself, probably thinking I’d sought security or glory by joining the glamorous new gang.

“I am not your headmaster anymore, Severus – �

“No, you’re not.�

“ – and I don’t think I have been for a while. It is not my job to lecture you.�

I didn’t answer, but surveyed him sourly, wondering where he was going.

“I presume you seek what so many others before have sought. Curiosity is no sin.� I couldn’t help but feel a twitch of annoyance at his choice of words. I drained the glass and put it firmly back on the table.

“Acting on curiosity, though, could lead to unspeakable sins. Think about whose orders you’ve subjected yourself to oblige. Is the considerable amount of extended knowledge really worth the crimes you’re about to commit?� I felt colour rising in my cheeks.

“How do you know I’m not in control?� I replied hotly. “How do you know I’m not playing them? Those weak of mind become slaves.�

“And yet you have just let Voldemort’s personal service bell be a permanent feature of your own skin. You don’t think that comes with obligations?�

“Are you finished?�

“People have failed you in many ways, Severus. Of course it is easier to nourish one’s own arrogance, to consider oneself superior, than to recognise oneself a failure.�

“Are you calling me a failure?� I spat, not able to keep my voice down, and why should I have?

“No. You were quite a remarkable student. I am sure you will excel at this, your new career. It will be a lifelong service, after all.�

“I don’t plan this to be my final destination, you know.�

“Do you think you’re the first man who thinks he has only become involved for academic purposes? You’re not special, Severus. You’re just as unique as any other Death Eater.� And he got to his feet, cast the cloak across his shoulder and left, nodding to the barman on his way out.

That was the last time I saw him for a few years.

I didn’t think we would meet again so soon.