Heirs of Lords

Italics – Thoughts

Bold – Parseltongue

Harry's PV

Harry's eyes snapped open as he sat up in his bed drenched with sweat. He had been in the graveyard again, reliving the night that had haunted him all summer. Harry slowly lay back down and sighed as he closed his emerald eyes. He felt so tired. Every time he tried to close his eyes he either saw Cedric's death or Voldemort's rebirth. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep all summer and sometimes even his waking hours were reminders of his nightmares.

Harry hissed in a mixture of pain and annoyance as his scar pulsed in a dull pain that he had become very familiar with. He gasped as the pain suddenly increased, causing him to screw his eyes closed against the darkness that was threatening to overtake him. As suddenly as it had come, the pain faded back into a dull ache and then disappeared. Harry let out the breath that he had been holding and opened his watery eyes. After a few shaky breaths he rubbed his hand gently across his scar.

"Ah!" He winced at the pain that his touch brought to his forehead. He looked at his hand and was shocked to see that his fingers were covered in blood. Harry wiped his hand on his sheets to get rid of the red substance but found that it left a coppery smell behind that seemed to hover in the air. He wondered what could have gotten Voldemort so happy, his scar hadn't hurt this much since the night in the graveyard.

"He's probably killing someone right now." muttered Harry, but his eyes were becoming heavy and he found that he was having trouble staying awake. Both his body and his mind were exhausted from his nightmare filled sleep and his link with Voldemort's emotions. Harry found that with sleep calling him, he had trouble worrying about what Voldemort might be doing. With a soft sigh he closed his eyes and for the first time all summer, slept without nightmares.

Voldemort's PV

The Dark Lord was not killing someone. In fact he wasn't even causing anyone any pain at the moment. In fact he was doing just the opposite. He was sitting in a large dimly lit room. The only piece of furniture in the room was a large simple black oak chair, which he was occupying. His death eaters had just returned from their separate missions and his Chosen were standing in a semicircle in front of him. More then a few of the missions had been failures and all of his followers were waiting for their punishments.

Voldemort leaned back on his throne and smiled down at his death eaters. The fact that they all cringed at his gesture only caused him to widen it. Showing off all of his white shark's teeth. Through their fear, Voldemort could feel their curiosity spark. He rose from his chair and all of the death eaters quickly dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

"I'm very disappointed in all of you." His voice was a quiet and cold hiss that chilled every death eater to the core. "Except for you Snape. That new potion of yours worked marvelously."

"Thank-you my Lord." Snape bowed his head lower in response to the praise. He kneeled at the right end of the semicircle and was separated from the other death eaters by a gap. Voldemort turned to the rest of his followers before continuing.

"You all have failed in your missions. If this happens again I will be very unhappy." The death eaters cringed slightly at his words and kneeling even lower, began to utter assurances that they would not fail again. Voldemort quickly tired of their foolish promises and bellowed, "Silence!" The room immediately fell into total silence. Voldemort stared at each one of them in turn with his burning red eyes and quietly said, "There is someone that I wish for you to meet." He saw a few of them look at each other in surprise. It had been almost seventeen years since someone new had joined the Chosen and he had never brought anyone else in without telling them about it beforehand.

Ignoring their curious looks Voldemort waved his left hand in the air and the small door behind his chair swung open. A figure dressed completely in black stepped into the light and then slowly made it's way to Voldemort's side. The figure was only half a head shorter then Voldemort and wearing simple black robes with the hood pulled up so that it's hair couldn't be seen. The figure wore a mask of silver with a figure of an emerald green snake twisted down the left side and around the left eye. The snake caught the flickering candlelight and appeared to be moving against the silver. The death eaters looked at the figure from their kneeling places on the floor in curiosity.

"I would like you to meet my son." As he spoke the figure pulled down his hood and removed his mask to reveal unruly silver hair and fair skin. But the things that caught the Chosen's attention were the boy's eyes. They were an icy blue that seemed to be glowing in the dimly lit room. The death eaters could do nothing but stare at the boy; they were so shocked by their master's announcement. Voldemort saw that Snape seemed to be the only one of his followers that wasn't ogling his son in bewilderment. Using his legilimency Voldemort tried to see what was in his servant's mind, but like every other time he had tried, he was able to find nothing. He had to admit that the man was better at occlumency then Voldemort was at legilimency. Because of that he knew barely anything about how Snape's mind worked and that intrigued him. Snape was by far his favorite death eater. The man was smart and as sly as a Slytherin could get. Voldemort was sure that he only did what Voldemort told him to because it would further his own power. And the man was much more useful then almost all of his other followers combined.

"How can this be?" asked Bellatrix's shrill voice from the far left of the semicircle cutting off Voldemort's thoughts.

Voldemort looked at her and in a mild voice asked, "What, do you think that I am incapable of producing an heir?"

"N-no!" Bellatrix stuttered in fear, "I o-only meant that I could not imagine you going through the trouble of raising a child. I had assumed that you wouldn't want to bother yourself with it." Bellatrix shrank in fear as Voldemort continued to glare at her. Voldemort heard Bellatrix give a sigh of relief as Voldemort turned his gaze away from her. He watched in mild interest as Snape stood and walked to the center of the semicircle and stood before him.

Snape bowed to him and asked, "My Lord, may I ask the boy a few questions?" Voldemort smiled and waved his hand to indicate that he didn't care.

"How old are you?" was Snape's first question and Voldemort figured that it was a reasonable one. It would allow his death eaters to find out how long he had been keeping the boy hidden.

"I turn seventeen on Winter Solstice." was the boy's quiet reply. Voldemort saw Snape blink as a look of surprise passed across his face, but it was gone so fast that Voldemort thought he might have imagined it.

" So you're about the same age as Draco." stated Luscious from where he was still kneeling.

"Have you taken your O.W.L.s?" asked Snape as he ignored Luscious' interruption.

The boy answered with a simple, "Yes."

Behind him, Snape heard Bellatrix begin to ask, "But how is that possi-"

Snape turned slightly to look irately at Bellatrix and Voldemort felt him use his legilimency skills to force her to shut her mouth on the end of her sentence. Turning back to his Lord's heir he continued, "What did you make?"

The boy smirked and, showing all of his white teeth, said, "I got all Os."

Voldemort gave a slight smile in pride before turning to Snape and asking, "What does it matter?"

"I merely wished to make sure that the boy's potions skills were up to par." Said Snape as he bowed once more.

Voldemort laughed and said, "Only you, Severus, would worry more about his potions skills then about where he came from."

"I take my work very seriously." Snape glanced over to the boy who was watching his every move from where he stood beside his father. "Besides," continued Snape as he stood in front of the Dark Lord, "you'll either tell us where he came from, or you won't." With a slight nod of his head he finished, "It is all up to you my Lord."

Voldemort's laughter echoed throughout the chamber sending chills through every death eater. "Rise, and I will tell you what you need to know."

Snape's PV

While the Dark Lord was in a good mood Snape was in a decidedly foul one. Voldemort had just dismissed his Chosen after telling them his plan for getting his son into Hogwarts. He'd said that since Snape was from a powerful bloodline and without any children to continue it. So the natural thing for someone in his position to do would be to adopt one. Snape would tell Dumbledore that he had found the boy while walking by an orphanage and, sensing his magical potential, had decided to make him his heir.

The thing that made Snape so mad about the whole thing was that Voldemort had never asked him if he was willing to do it. As always, the Dark Lord had just assumed that Snape's greatest joy in life came from following his every whim. He never stopped to think that maybe Snape had plans for his bloodline already.

As Snape stewed in his angry thoughts he quickly left Riddle Manor and as soon as he'd passed through the wards he disapparated to his own home. His house was not as big as Voldemort's, but it was just as dark looking. It was built out of obsidian and had two large towers rising above it. To the left of the house there was a small homely looking stone cottage that was obviously there for the gardener. It had honeysuckle growing up three of the walls and roses growing around the door and a small herb garden was growing alongside it.

Instead of heading into the house, Snape headed for the cottage. He followed the small path that was beaten down to the door and knocked gently four times.

A muffled "Come in." greeted his ears and he pushed the door open. The inside of the cottage was just as homely looking as the outside, with a fireplace on the wall to the right of the door with a small painting hanging above the mantle. The mantle itself was bare except for a wood box covered in runes. In front of the fireplace there was a woven rug and some cushions. A table big enough for two people sat on the far side of the fireplace with a bowl of fruit sitting on it. Along the left wall there was a neatly made bed with a book lying on the pillow.

After a quick scan of the room Snape pulled his wand out and, pointing it at the floor, whispered a quiet spell. He was instantly greeted by the opening of a trap door, which hadn't been visible before. He walked down the small set of stairs that appeared and entered into a small tunnel that only went on for a few feet before stopping at a big iron door. Opening the door he went into the room and quickly shut the door behind him again.

This room was completely empty except a punching bag that hung in the far corner. The floors were covered in wrestling mats and the walls and ceiling were all painted white. The room was currently being occupied by a teenage girl who was busy beating the hell out of the poor swinging bag. The girl seemed to be in her mid-teens, had hair as black as Snape's but with a few red-orange highlights, bright green eyes with rings of red-ish brown around her pupils. Her skin was a soft tan color and she was rather tall and curvy but in a thin way.

"Don't you think that poor bag's been through enough torment?" Asked Snape in a clear voice to get the girl's attention.

The girl swung around to face him and her face broke into big grin as she replied, "Yes, but for some reason it refuses to be put out of it's misery."

"That's because you're going about it wrong." Said Snape in a mock serious tone. "You've got to make it understand that giving up is the best course of action. Until it understands that, it will continue to swing at you in defiance."

The girl rolled her eyes at him before walking to the side of the room and taking a drink from the water bottle that lay there.

"So," Said the girl once she was done drinking, "How did the meeting with his Royal Darkness go?" As she spoke she lowered herself to the floor sat with her legs crossed and leaned against the wall behind her.

"Not well." Snape's voice took on a hint of anger as he spoke and took a seat beside her. "His 'Royal Darkness', as you so aptly call him, has ruined my plan for adopting you as my heir."

"What?" The girl looked at him incredulously for a moment before asking, "What'd he do?"

"You know I can't tell you that. For your safety as well as my own." Snape let out a small sigh as he leaned his head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "We'll just have to come up with some other way to get you into Hogwarts."

"Why do I have to go to Hogwarts?" She tilted her head in question as she spoke. "Why do you want me to go now when you refused to let me go last year?"

"You know the answer to that already. I didn't have the resources to make the potion till after Voldemort gave them to me."

"Ah yes, the great 'RD' had to give you those before you could finish it." The girl closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them and looking at him. "Sorry. I just hate being stuck in this stupid cottage all the time. I want to go outside with out a hundred spells on me. I want to be with people my own age. I want to have friends. I want –"

Snape cut her off by gently hugging her. She quickly hugged him back and buried her head in his chest as a few tears quietly fell down her face. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she finally pushed him away. He didn't say anything as she wiped her face, grabbed her water bottle, and walked out of the room. Snape slowly rose to his feet and followed her back along the tunnel up into the cottage. She had seated herself at the table and was now peeling an orange. She didn't say anything as he took the seat across from her.

"Ashe," He began in a stern, quiet voice, "I know you hate being confined like this, but please understand that it'll only be until you turn 17. Then you can take the potion once a month and move around unhindered. And then after you turn 18 you'll be free to do whatever you wish, without the use of potions or spells. I just need you to be a little more patient. Your birthday's only in a few days."

"I know." The girl looked him in the eyes as she continued, "I know how hard you've been working on this. Thank you.

Snape's lips curved into one of his rare true smiles, " Ashe, I'd do anything for you." She smiled at him as he stood and walked over to the door. "Besides," He continued, "you are my little girl." Then he smiled at her once more before leaving the cottage and heading up to the main house. Snape felt his determination to get his daughter into the magical world grow and he decided he'd take his dinner in one of the potions rooms so that he could formulate another plan.

It only took him a few minutes to decide that some aspects of his original plan would still be usable; he would just have to change his story on why he'd recommended her. In the end he decided that he would tell Dumbledore that he had been looking for an heir. He had been exploring muggle orphanages in the hope that there might be at least one undiscovered witch or wizard with good magic potential. He'd say that he'd found the boy, Voldemort's son, at one orphanage and the girl at another, but had decided on adopting the boy because he didn't like the idea as having a girl for an heir. He'd then inform the headmaster that the girl really should be trained so as not to accidentally harm those around her or herself with uncontrolled magic.

To keep his own daughter from knowing about him "adopting" Voldemort's son and to keep Voldemort from knowing that he even had a daughter, he'd ask Dumbledore to keep the whole "adopting" thing quiet, with the excuse that he didn't want the boy to be treated differently then the other students.

Once Snape had worked out all the details to his plan and arranged everything he found that it was already almost midnight. Feeling satisfied with his work he retired to his room for the night and quickly fell asleep.

Deimos's PV

Deimos had had fun today. It'd been quite amusing to watch his father's death eaters get so shocked and speechless over his father's announcement. It had been almost perfect. The only thing that had kept it from being perfect was his father's favorite death eater, Snape. His father had often spoken highly of Snape's potions, Occlemency, and all around Slytherin-ness. After a while it had gotten quite annoying actually. But today, Deimos had discovered that the man had definitely earned the praise.

He'd seen the potion Snape had given his father and he had recognized it immediately. It was one of the highest levels of potions that Deimos had ever heard of and apparently Snape had made it with ease. When his father had introduced him to the death eaters for the first time, the only one who seemed to take the announcement in stride was Snape. The man had even had enough thought to ask him his age and his abilities. Deimos had tried to see what he was thinking with Legilimency, but had been unable to get past the man's shields. After the failed attempt he'd realized that Snape was indeed his father's most valuable death eater and at the same time, his most dangerous one, since no one but Snape knew what Snape was planning. In the last few hours of meditation and thinking, Deimos had come to greatly respect the man.

The man had only shown a lapse of control twice, when Deimos told him when his birthday was and when his father had outlined the plan to get him into Hogwarts. Both times, he was sure he'd seen anger stir in Snape's eyes before being masked once more by that icy gray. He wasn't sure what the man was angry about since he'd been given a vital role in the plan.

Oh well. I guess I'll find out what it meant sooner or later.

And with that last thought on the matter, Deimos made his way to his bed and lay there quietly until sleep finally decided to claim him.