Hey guys, ready for another story? I was drinking tea one night then all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit together! It starts off when Severus Snape just becomes a deatheater, so he still believes in their views. I hope you all enjoy. As always, constructive criticism helps xx ~Stealgal~

Prologue

On a crisp November night, The Deatheaters were out on a hunt to weed the world of a few more muggles and mudbloods. The world was silent, barn a few blood curdling screams ripped from the throats of guilty scum. Their crime you may ask? Existing.

I was holding up the back, not terribly desperate to get in on the 'fun' as the likes of young Bellatrix would say.

"Severus, you take that house, I'll take this one!"

"Agreed Malfoy." I glared at the boy younger than myself. The only reason I had to take orders from Lucius was that he was of a higher 'blood group'.

What's the worst that could happen? I may have to kill a couple of muggles. That's why I joined the Deatheaters, was it not? No, but I 'signed a contract' in a manner of speaking. My fate was sealed as soon as i presented my left arm to be brandished like common cattle.

I walked calmly up to the small, yet very quaint house. I stood flat against the stony wall and opened the door.

"Alohomora." I mumbled quietly, having not yet quite grasped the concept of non-incantation magic.

The door creaked open and I checked for immediate danger. Nothing. I took in a deep breath, then waltzed into the house as if I owned the place, however, not making a sound.

I came to a door at the end of the hall, the room inside was dimly lit. I stopped just behind it and listened.

"-But she has to dad. When will mum come back?" A young boy pleaded with his father.

"Mum's not coming back son. She packed her cases and left. I'm sorry, my boy" A father sympathized with his son.

"But why dad. Why did she do it?" The boy was getting emotional.

"Calm down son, it will be alright. She left because I told her we are wizards. I know it's not fair, but sometimes that's how life is. Now be a good boy and go to your room." The man stood and took his boy in his arms. From this angle, I could see that the boy looked very much like his father- Messy, sandy blonde hair and a handsome angular face, even for a child of about seven.

"I wish I wasn't a wizard. Then she wouldn't have left."

"Don't ever say that, my boy. Magic is a gift to be cherished. You'll know that one day." He took his son to his room, then came back to the living room and stood with his wand raised.

"I know you're there. I have wards to alert me as to when there is an intruder. Show your face."

"How very astute of you." I came through the door and smirked up at the man with a devilish smile.

We started to duel, and though the man was very equipped, I made him falter with words.

"You should join our cause. From what I heard, you of all people should hate muggles. I bet your son will become a Deatheater. In fact as soon as I have dealt with you, I shall place the mark upon his skin myself." Malice dripping from every word.

"Expelliarmus!" I grinned madly, an expression to rival Bellatrix's, just to make him squirm.

"Y-You W-Won't touch my S-Son..."

"Oh now wouldn't I? Avada Kedavra." My first killing curse. It didn't feel right on my lips. I felt tainted. I knew it wouldn't be last time those words would leave my tongue.

I stared down at the lifeless body and glazed eyes. How pitiful... But the challenge still stood. Would I? Would I place the mark on an innocent's arm?

The deal was sealed when I looked up to see the boy in question peering from around the side of his door.

"Petrificus Totalus."

The boy stood totally still. I walked up to him menacingly and grabbed his left arm. I dug my wand into the unblemished skin, and muttered the incantation which had long been imprinted into the back of my eye lids.

If the boy could have screamed, he would have. If the boy could have spasmed, he would have. But he couldn't.

The only sign which indicated he was in any discomfort what-so-ever, was his blood shot eyes begging for relief, dripping tears down his face.

He was marked, and would be so for the rest of his life.

I left swiftly, leaving no trace. Leaving the boy to whimper in a pitiful manor. Leaving my humanity.