The dark man looked up and down the crowded street, one hand buried in his pocket, clutching an unseen object. It was a damp and chilly spring evening, typical for London in March. The street was full of people heading home after a long day of work, yet no one appeared to notice the strange man step out of the window of the abandoned department store. He quickly scanned the mass of pedestrians and, apparently satisfied with what he saw, crossed the street to the nearest telephone booth.
“Lissy, honey, it’s Robert,” he began only to be cut off by the excited woman on the other end of the line. After a moment was able to continue, a touch of guilt in his voice, “No, I’m not going to be home early. I’ve got an errand to run, and then I have a meeting to attend.” A pause, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be home before Dean goes to bed, but I don’t know how long the meeting will be.” Another pause, and then, sadly, “I’m sorry…I love you.” He hung up the phone with a sigh, and turned to walk back toward the department store. He gave the street another quick scan, and disappeared with a loud pop.
Robert walked slowly but deliberately down the quiet country road, one hand pulling his trench coat tightly around him, the other still hidden in his pocket, grasping his wand. “You have to do this,” he mumbled to himself. “You have to tell them. They have a right to know. Maybe they will understand. Maybe they will accept them.” He let out a loud laugh, “What are you thinking, Robert? These are your parents you are talking about, the noble, proud and pure Leicesters. There is no way they would accept a Muggle,” he spat out, as if the word were poisonous, “grandson or not.”
He continued muttering to himself as he made his way along the deserted road, then suddenly a large house came into view, and his pace slowed. As he neared the gate, he paused and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the unpleasant task. “I have to do this,” he repeated. “They have a right to know.” He took one last look around, and with a wave of his wand, transformed his clothing back to its original form. Robert smoothed the front of his dark green robes and stepped through the gates of his family home.
He approached the door with an air of determination about him, any doubts he had were left at the road. I love them, and that’s all that matters, he thought as the door swung open.
“Master Robert!” a small voice squeaked at his feet. “You was not expected until after dinner. Relly will tell Master and Mistress you is here.” The elf disappeared as Robert stepped into the hall. I was expected? Seconds later, a tall, elegantly dressed woman descended the marble stairs.
“Robert, what a pleasant surprise,” the woman began graciously, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You were never one to be patient.”
“It is lovely to see you too, Mother.” He leaned over to give the woman a quick kiss on the cheek before the peculiar greeting registered. “Patient…what are you talking about?”
“All in good time, my dear.” She gestured toward the sitting room. “Come, have a drink while we wait for your father. He has something important to tell you.”
“Thank you, Relly.” Robert accepted a goblet from the house elf, and settled himself near the fire. He turned to face his mother again, “I have something to tell you too.” He swirled the dark liquid in the glass, and stared at it as though it would tell him how to proceed. “I’ve met someone.”
“Filth! Scum! Shame of my flesh!” Shouting echoed through the vast rooms of the stately manor. “You dare to stand here, on what should be the proudest day of your life and tell me you have bedded a Muggle!” The usually composed demeanor of Edward Leicester was lost to rage at the confession of his son. As he paced around the room, his son could feel the anger radiating off his body. “This. Stops. Now.” There was no more shouting, just a simple command, and he was not used to being disobeyed.
Robert surveyed his father carefully; his reaction was not unexpected, but it was confusing. What is all this rubbish about ‘the proudest day of his life’? He fell back into his chair, and for a moment, he thought about refuting his father’s bigoted remarks. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him, and he decided it might be best to change the subject, “Why should I be proud, Father?”
The reply began with a harsh scowl. “Well certainly not for that little confession,” Edward’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But, now that little affair is over,” he gave his son a meaningful glare. “The day we have been waiting for has finally arrived.” With this statement, the anger appeared to evaporate, and a smile began to spread across the older man’s face. “The Dark Lord approves of the work you have done, and now that you have completed your apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s, he has agreed to accept you into his ranks. You will receive your mark tomorrow evening.” He was positively beaming by this point. “Then, you will join the Lord Voldemort’s potions master in his work.”
“My mark?” Robert could not hide the shock in his voice; luckily, his father assumed that he was pleasantly surprised. “Father, I thought the Dark Lord was content to keep me at St. Mungo’s. Have I not been useful to him there?” he asked carefully.
The elder Leicester shook his head and chuckled, “This is not a punishment, Son. You have performed your task admirably. The information you relayed about the injured Order Members was particularly useful. As a reward for your service, and as a favor to an old friend,” he looked ready to burst with pride at the thought, “the Dark Lord has agreed to advance your position. Now you can be properly recognized as one of his servants.”
The younger man rose and walked toward the large picture window on the opposite side of the room. Silently, he stared out over the expansive grounds, thoughts flooding his mind, How can I do this? I can’t do this. This was not supposed to happen... A gentle hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to the room around him. “Mother?” He had almost forgotten she was there.
“Come back over here, Son. I know this is a lot to absorb,” she began understandingly as she settled him in a chair. “There will be a great deal of responsibility in your new position, but the Dark Lord believes you will be useful, and you must trust his judgment.”
She thinks I am concerned with disappointing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Robert shook his head in disbelief, I should have known. He knew he had to say something, “Mother, Father…”