Prologue: Karkaroff Offed
Weary, exhausted beyond words after having endured the relentless torture session and the merciless assaults on his mind he'd had to endure after finally managing to attend the Dark Lord's summons, Severus Snape shuffled back through the corridors of Hogwarts, like a member of the walking dead. Every inch of his body ached and groaned in protest, after he'd been on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's Cruciatus curses for nigh-on half an hour straight, even in spite of the potions he'd swigged to lessen their impact before going to join the rest of the Death Eaters. He'd just about managed to hold him off, to selectively show just enough to satisfy the man's- no, snake-man's now, thanks to that unheard-of dark life alchemy ritual he'd used to acquire his new body, utilizing his snake-familiar's venom as the primary ingredient in the potion which formed its base- expectations and allay the Dark Lord's rightfully aroused suspicions that he'd gone over to the side of his most hated enemy, Dumbledore. But only barely, by a hair's breadth. After all of these years, he'd allowed his Occlumency to go to waste, to become soft. Weak- penetrable. He'd only escaped exposure thanks to the Dark Lord's lack of composure, thanks to the fact that the Potter brat had escaped his clutches in the graveyard and made it back to the protection of Hogwarts.
It was almost laughable- for the first time ever, Severus found himself actually praising the fates for Harry Potter's absurd over-abundance of luck, now that enough of it had spilled over his way to save his own sorry skin. But this was NOT a life debt- oh no, he most certainly did NOT owe a life debt to that insufferable, arrogant, idiotic little brat, no matter how close it may have been. And he definitely was NOT going to let himself come any closer to owing Harry Potter a life debt than he'd come tonight. Never again. Turning the corner, Severus started to open the door to his private study from afar using his wand, already dead-set on going straight through to his chambers and just collapse in a head on the bed. But upon starting to open the door, the realization that the wards on his office had been already accessed by someone else before him hit Severus like a Giant's club, putting him back on full alert in an instant. Too late to cancel the opening spell, but with his wand already in hand, he had both a wordless silencing charm and the strongest shield he could muster up around the doorway within a fraction of a second, using a summoning spell to yank himself all the way down the corridor and in front of the door before it creaked open, just in time.
"Severus! I have to talk to you..." A figure rose from his chair, behind his desk, here in his dark sanctuary of peace and solitude- instantly recognizable even through the filthy haze of tobacco smoke which now permeated the place, still billowing forth from the man's accursed pipe. Igor Karkaroff, the allegedly absconded Headmaster of Durmstrang, the former Death Eaters whose absence had been noted most keenly of all, had been here? Charging in, slamming the door behind him, Severus marched across to Karkaroff and clapped his hand over the man's mouth, leaning in to hiss in his ear. "Keep your voice down, and stay in there, you blithering imbecile. There are eyes and ears everywhere..."
A thorough scan of the office, though, revealed no traces of any unwanted listeners or observers other then his unwelcome guest. Satisifed, Severus released his grip, shoving Karkaroff backwards and watching him collapse in a heap on the stone floor, gasping for breath and scrambling to retrieve his pipe from wherever the foul thing had fallen. "Well? Why are you here, in my office? What do you want? And why didn't you answer, when the Dark Lord summoned you to him?"
Rising back to his feet, holding his pipe in his now visibly shaking hand, Karkaroff stared at him. "I- I needed to talk to you, to be sure. Is it true then- has the Dark Lord truly returned, from beyond the grave? Great Koschei- I, I have to flee, to get as far away from here as far as I can..."
"He'll still find you, you know. There is no place on Earth where you can hide, Igor, now that you've marked yourself as a traitor by failing to attend like the rest of us. He'd have given you leniency, you know that? There were plenty of other betrayers, squealers and turncoats who had the sense to answer his summons upon his return today; you know how many were killed? None. NONE. You'd have got off with nothing more than a run-of-the-mill torture session, just like I did, and that would've been the end of it. But now, now, your cowardice has sealed your fate."
"I know. I know... But please, Severus- you were always a good friend, surely, if you tell him, put in a good word..."
"Ha! You tried to turn me over to the Ministry along with everyone else, back when the Dark Lord fe- stumbled. And thanks to you, and thanks to Dumbledore's announcement in front of the entire Wizengamot that I was his spy for the Order, I'm under greater suspicion now than I've ever been. That was YOUR fault- it's YOUR fault that my 'good word' doesn't count for crap any more. Good friends, we may have been, back in the day. But I'm no-one's stooge, Igor, least of all yours. I do NOT have a death wish; no life-debt is worth more than my own life. And yours would be perhaps the most worthless of all, given the depths of defecation you've dived down into the depths of."
Wavering, clearly shaken to his core by the realization of how badly screwed he actually was, Karkaroff's hand shot out to steady himself against Snape's desk, spilling a few pieces of unfinished paperwork on the floor. "There, there is no hope, no hope then... Please Severus, I need help, I need you to help me. I don't want to..."
"Too bad. You know it as well as I do, Igor, I can see it in your eyes. You're already as good as dead- and if I bring you in, it should be sufficient to allay any suspicions which He may have with regards to my own divided loyalties, all thanks to you and that fat, yellowed mouth of yours- at least for the time being. Now then, come along- you have an overdue appointment with the Dark Lord..." Severus strode forward, having to shift his focus back to maintaining his shield as Karkaroff backed up against the wall and lashed out in desperation, shooting a lethal-looking neon yellow curse at him which stuck onto it, sizzling there for all of five seconds before it eventually fizzled out and dissipated.
"NO! No, you, you CAN'T! You can't turn me over to him?! What he'd do to me- you know, you know what he'd do, to make an example of me... And I won't be able to stay on the run for any length of time either, not with the trace on my Dark Mark allowing him to chase me down wherever I go. The others, the ones I sent to Azkaban; they'll track me down, they'll capture me, and He, He won't just kill me, He'll destroy me, over and over again, crush me and break me until there's nothing left but a soulless, brain-dead husk..."
"Well then, we'd hardly notice the difference, would we?" Severus interjected through his gritted teeth, rapidly losing his patience as Karkaroff cast another of those vexing curses his way.
"Be that as it may, I'd sooner die by my own wand than let you take me to him! I'd sooner die than be caught, and dragged before him! If you think I'm going down without a fight..."
"Merlin, Igor, enough of your harping on," Severus snapped, reaching out to pin Karkaroff against the wall and stretching out his wand hand to place its tip firmly against Karkaroff's forehead. "Quit trying to play the lament- all of the strings on that tired old instrument of yours broke a long time ago, and it's time to give it up and call it a day. Your choice- will I be delivering you to him dead, or alive?"
Bewildered, stunned into silence, Igor stared blankly into Snape's eyes for a moment, not daring to believe it at first, before embracing the small vestige of hope he'd been presented with. "That's- I don't know how to... There's no contest, is there?"
"No, there isn't. But you know full well which option the Dark Lord would reward me for more. And I'd still be running the risk of incurring his wrath, especially given the foul mood he's in after the Potter spawn somehow managed to escaped his clutches- through blind luck, as per usual. If you want what little mercy I have the leeway to offer you, I'll expect you to offer me something to make it up to me. So? Out with it. Tell me, what could you possibly have to offer?"
"My- my estate..."
Severus' eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he answered it with a derisory snort. "Impoverished, languishing in debt since you defaulted on that second mortgage of yours with the Goblins. Your vaults, emptied long ago. And while you may be its Headmaster, you don't have the power to seize any of the Durmstrang Institute's worthwhile assets and pass them on- if you did, you'd have done so long ago."
"Then..." Karkaroff scrambled around, trying desperately to think of something, anything, before coming to a abrupt halt, the Lumos charm clearly blinking on in his mind as an answer presented itself. "Then, I shall leave them in your capable hands. My two most prized possessions. Powerful magic indeed, in both of them. They wouldn't have done me any good anyway, not where I was going- no, if I'd gone on the run, they'd only have impeded me, slowed me down, increased the likelihood of my being caught. But you, you'll certainly be able to get good use out of them. And this way, they won't fall into the clutches of the Dark Lord, or of any of the other Death Eaters who'd seek to take advantage of them, pervert them to serve their whims. You- I can trust you with them, Severus. You're the only one I can- will you accept them, Severus...?"
Dark artifacts? Relics, scrolls, enchanted weapons? Whatever they were, they were clearly the things that Karkaroff valued most of all. Severus didn't even have to pry to see that, it was written all over the man's face. It was the best he was going to get, that much was clear, and time was running short- after today's tumultous events, Dumbledore could very well drop in to demand his report on the Order's re-emerged enemies' numbers and capabilities at any moment, Cruciatus trauma and nerve damage be damned. Let's just get this over with... "Very well, I suppose it'll have to suffice."
"In blood?" Karkaroff inquired quietly, looking down at one of the blank pieces of parchment scattered from the desk, resting on the ground at the feet, between the two of them.
"In blood," Snape affirmed, summoning a pen-knife from his desk and handing it to Karkaroff, who slashed his wrist with it- flinching slightly as he did so, wincing at the pitiful excuse for pain- and handed it back to Snape, who smoothly and unhesitatingly did the same with his own, simultaneously using his wand to enscribe a circle of runes on the piece of parchment beneath them. Then, the two clasped their bleeding wrists together- their blood flowing out from their wounds and merging into a single thread, dripping down to splash onto the parchment below- which turned a brilliant, burning shade of red, bathing them both in the scarlet glow from below, before returning to blank, unblemished white, with both the bloodstains and the runes vanishing from sight without trace.
The two men stood there for a moment, using healing spells to weave up the slashes on their wrists back together without trace, before Snape backed off, allowing Karkaroff to get clear of the wall. Karkaroff dropped his wand to the ground, opening his arms out wide as an open invitation. "Well, Severus- care to seal the deal?" Goodbye, Igor. Raising his wand, focusing as much magical energy as he could muster into it from his already drained and fatigued core, he nodded his head, and uttered the Unforgivable to end it all. "Avada Kedavra." The bolt of green light shot from the end of his wand, and struck Igor Karkaroff directly in the chest- moments later, his faintly smiling lifeless corpse collapsed in a heap on the floor. It was done.
Snape absentmindedly banished all of the foul-smelling carcinogenic smoke from his study, and levitated Karkaroff's body into the chest in the corner- ironically enough, the same expanded chest in which Crouch Jr. had imprisoned Alastor Moody for the past year, ready and waiting to be returned to the Dark Lord's possession. Only now, it'd also contain a suitable offering, one which should be sufficient to get him back into the Dark Lord's good graces once more. Curious, he turned his attentions to the blank sheet of parchment upon which they'd sealed their unbreakable contract with that blood magic ritual. With his side of the bargain complete, the conditions had been met- the two most prized possessions which Karkaroff had hoarded to the very end had now been passed on, becoming Snape's rightful magical property.
But as the massive blots of blood red began to manifest themselves visibly, spreading across the sheet of parchment and collecting themselves into lines and dots to spell out exactly what the two possessions that he'd actually acquired were, Snape's satisfied smirk started to ebb away, along with what little color there was in his already pale face. "Wait- what? WHAT?!" As the words became clear, his eyes bulged- leaping out his seat, he summoned the sheet of parchment across his study, reading it over and over again to be absolutely sure, until it was all he could do to stop himself from tearing the sheet apart, or lighting his fireplace and tossing it into the flames. It mattered not- destroying the parchment wouldn't do anything to break the contract written on it. What was done was done- and with no way of bringing Karkaroff back from the dead, there was no way to undo it.
The Lord and Patriarch of the House of Karkaroff, Igor Pedja Karkaroff, does of his own free will and volition, hereby grant full custodial possession of the two Magical Wards of the Karkaroff Estate to Severus Snape, newly designated Lord and Patriarch of the House of Snape, in perpetuity. This contract was sealed and bound with blood; the terms and conditions were satisfactorily met at 00:13, 25th June 1995, and will remain in effect until all parties to which it refers are deceased, with the new possessor of the two Magical Wards accepting the former possessor's full custodial duties and responsibilities to protect them.
Igor Pedja Karkaroff (DECEASED- 14 March, 1955 - 25 June 1995)
Severus Snape (9 January, 1960 -)
Natalia Vahyah Snape (7 November, 1977 -)
Anastasia Ahbaya Snape (20 April, 1980 -)