The Four Marauders.

The Four Marauders- Protection Can Only Last For A While

Short one.
Peters POV:

I stepped into a tall, old house, the name 'Riddle' neatly engraved on one of the brass door knobs in the shape if a serpent, I felt I was standing on sacred ground, I was under the same roof as my new master, a nervous shiver racked my body as I began to walk into the room, and sitting on the chair opposite me... There he was, I was utterly speechless.

"Would you like to become one of us?" The voice said, not bothering to turn around and face me, the voice was full of coldness and no emotion.

"I-I would b-be honored, my lord" I said, trying to keep calm and try to control my stammering. It was time- it was finally time. I had been thinking about it ever since Lucius Malfoy suggested the idea, the idea that would eventually make me known as myself, rather than Sirius, James and remus' friend.

It was fun at first, being friends with James, Sirius and Remus. I was definitely glad I met them, as soon as I saw everyone else on the platform on the first day of school, I knew I wouldn't stand a chance in Hogwarts, I knew I would be picked on and always singled out. I needed protection, and it was lucky I met Remus, James and Sirius, the popular trouble makers of the school. I found the protection I need for the next years of my school life.

But as we were entering our third year at Hogwarts people got used to the prospect of James, Remus, Sirius and I around. This kind of 'school boy' protection can only last a while, most things only last a while- but this time, my opportunity with the dark Lord would say for as long as he lived, Which, of course, would be forever. However, what I was about to do, would give me protection beyond measure, and what's more, the protection would be for life.

"Hand me you arm, Peter" Said a raspy, high pitched voice, as Voldemort turned around in his chair, facing me for the first time. I handed my round, plump arm to him. "Your left one, Peter" he told me. I handed it to him, mentally scolding myself for not knowing what arm the dark mark is meant to be on, he whipped out his whitish-yellowish Yew wand and waved it slowly over the inside of my left, lower arm. He started to mutter the incantations, I managed to catch a few words and I came to the conclusion that he was using the protean charm. When he was finally done, I looked down to my left arm, and I was to be greeted by my protection: A black, burnt-in image of a skull with a serpent protruding out of it mouth, I started to feel a stinging- burning sensation but I didn't care. All I cared about was this mark on the inside of my left arm that my master had branded me with, I felt honoured, Lord Voldemort himself enrolled me. He enrolled me into his group of followers. I was now a Deatheater. I was proud of it.