Chapter One: An heir to the Darkest Throne
"Bella," a soft, snakelike hiss echoed around the dark room, "Bella, I require a service of you." A pale face stood out against the darkness, its shining red eyes with catlike slits for pupils, and with a snakelike nose. A dim light was clicked on and a woman entered the room.
The woman who had entered had large dark brown eyes with heavy lids. Her black hair was thick, soft, and shiny, and her well-kept black robes fluttered slightly around her pronounced figure as she strode toward the pale face.
The face, the light revealed, was a man, wearing a loosely fitted black robe, from which protruded two long-fingered hands, deathly pale as well.
"My Lord?" the woman asked, her head tilted ever so slightly, "What is it that you require of me?" Bellatrix Black searched Lord Voldemort face hungrily, but he betrayed no emotion of what was to come.
"Bella?" he said again, thoughtfully, "Have you ever stopped to contemplate what would happen to our plan if I was to ever be defeated?"
Her face lodged in a haughtily puzzled expression, Bella responded, "My Lord, surely you are invincible! There is nothing and no one who is to defeat you!" She was kneeling before him now.
He seemed to ponder her words, before responding, the thoughtful look still on his face, "Bella, you are perhaps, my most faithful servant, and you need to have this certain information for the job that I need you to carry out. But this is for you and you alone. I was indeed, invincible. After all, I am taking over the entire Wizarding world.
"But, as of last weekend, the Snape boy was on a mission," Voldemort ignored the look of mistrust and contempt that came across Bella's face as the name was mentioned, "and he came across that psychotic woman, Trelawney, relaying said prophecy to our old friend, Dumbledore, that went something like this."
Lord Voldemort stowed a spider like hand into his robes, pulling out a flask and his wand. He dumped the contents into the semidarkness, where they shimmered and glowed, a limbo between gas and liquid. Bellatrix Black, a pureblood witch, knew that it was, indeed a memory that could be observed.
"A memory, my Lord?" she asked.
"Let us see it, Bella" He nodded slowly.
"Of course," Bellatrix said hastily, gathering the memory and placing it in a large golden Pensive opposite where they were sitting- in Bella's case, kneeling- as it started to swirl. Bellatrix took one look at her master before they divulged into the memories of Severus Snape.
The moment each of their faces touched the memories, master and servant were thrust into a scene happening a week previously.
They were standing in a dingy dusty pub that was recognized as the 'Hog's Head' by the sign hanging over the bar. They watched a young man, as dark and thin as Bella, yet instead of the overconfident, haughty, intimidating expression usually to be seen on the face of Bella Black, the man looked quiet, thoughtful, and timid, enter the room. His black hair was full and well kept, and his eyes were unreadable and of deepest black.
The man was Severus Snape, the newest recruit for the Dark Lord. At nineteen years old, he was a brilliant potioneer and spell creator, which earned him a steady place in the ranks of the Death Eaters, and even after only 6 months of service, and no combat experience, Lord Voldemort was inclined to believe that the young boy had a bright, well, dark, future in his plan.
Bella didn't like the Snape boy at all. He was too mysterious for her, and their personalities were polar opposites. While she was what could be seen as a definite evil, her outgoing manner and obsession with Voldemort extremely obvious, and her emotions as easy to read as an open children's book, Snape, on the other hand was quiet, respectful, and guarded. He had grown up a half-blood boy in the Muggle world, learning potions from a witch Grandmother.
His heavily guarded emotions had landed him a place in Slytherin House at Hogwarts when he reached set age, which happened to be the main recruiting ground for Voldemort. He was recruited for his unusual skill in spell creating, making him very useful, another reason for Bellatrix to dislike him. Jealousy.
Snape turned quickly up a narrow staircase and Voldemort followed, Bella close behind. They reached a private room upstairs. The door was closed and locked, so Snape pulled out his wand, tapped it saying a nonverbal spell under his breath. The conversation was now clear.
"I'm sorry, dear Sybill, I will have to-" Albus Dumbledore was saying when suddenly, it sounded as if Trelawney was choking from the chair across him. Snape listened more closely, pushing a strand of silky black hair from his face.
The voice of the demented Seer was suddenly deep and rough, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord... Approaches... Born as the seventh month dies... Born to parents who have defied the Dark Lord himself thrice" In Snape's face, expression was obvious for once. He knew that this was no ordinary voice change. The woman was relaying a prophecy to the elderly Headmaster
Snape fumbled with the door lock as an attendant opened it, revealing him. Voldemort caught sight of Albus Dumbledore, his old enemy. The old man's blue eyes sparkled in their direction as if he could see them, which, Voldemort thought, shivering, wasn't possible, luckily, as the Headmaster was Voldemort's only secret fear, before resting on Snape.
"Why Severus, what brings you this far north on a chilly day like today?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.
Snape may have been smart, but he was inexperienced, and had yet to learn his quick wit, "Um... I... umm... wanted... a drink... from... the... err... pub..." the young man invented wildly, his nervous face showing.
"Well, as you can see, Mr. Snape, this is a quite private, ah, discussion, so if you would excuse Ms. Trelawney and myself," Dumbledore smiled at Snape, a cold smile that told him of his dismissal. Snape backed out of the room warily, Voldemort and Bella forced to follow. He raced out of the pub into the dark street, where he Apparated around the corner. The scene blurred and dissolved.
Bellatrix was standing next to her master once more in the semi dark room at the Death Eaters' headquarters, a look of shock on her face, "My Lord, you must kill this child! I can organize a raid, anything! We can not let this be a threat to your rule!" She was frantic, spitting hair out of her mouth.
Voldemort, next to her, was musing, as if over a move in a card game, "Now, now, Bella. Let us not get ahead of ourselves. I am not fool enough to attempt to kill the child when the prophecy says he will have the 'power to vanquish me'. Someone will be doing it for me. An heir of sorts. This is where you come in, Bella." A cold smile played on the Dark Lord's colorless lips, and his lieutenant returned it with a slightly demented looking one, revealing glinting white teeth.
Her eyes widened and dark pleasure crossed her face, "I am to kill the child, my Lord? I absolutely accept!" she exclaimed.
Voldemort eyed her carefully, chuckling a humorless, hissing laugh, "My dear Bella, as much as I appreciate your bloodlust, your job will not be to kill the child, but simply to find an heir suitable to do the job.
"Requirements as followed: the heir must be under the age of one year, must come from a pure-blooded wizard family, and have a strong talent already obvious. I will give someone the job of raising the child properly, and later he or she will defeat this 'Chosen One' of the prophecy. This will be the Heir to my Darkest Throne. Do not let me down, Bellatrix."
"Yes, my Lord," Bella responded, bowing her head, "I will not disappoint you." She looked at her master tentatively, before speaking again, "My Lord, what children are you considering as the one in the Prophecy?"
"Severus and I have been discussing the past week, and I am stuck between two boys. Lily and James Potter's boy, and Frank and Alice Longbottom's child. Two children born on July 31st, or 'as the seventh month dies.' Severus thinks Neville Longbottom would be wise, but I am not so sure. While the Longbottom's are excellent Aurors, he will grow up centered around more protection, and after all, parental talent does not always mean offspring talent, or vise versa, as obvious with myself. The Potter child, Harry, on the other hand, his only living relatives are muggles, and if his parents were to be 'accidentally' killed, he would have a less chance of growing up to be a wizard, and most likely will not be able to freely use magic. With his parents dead, the boy will be under little or no protection. What is your opinion, Bella?"
"My Lord, I agree completely that the Potter boy is the wisest choice," Bellatrix said faithfully.
Lord Voldemort contemplated again before answering, "Well, Bella. I have done a certain amount of ah, research, on both families, and the Potters are currently living in Godric's Hollow, half wizard village in Southwest Britain. They have preformed the Fidleus Charm to protect themselves, yet the spy has been made Secret-Keeper, the decoy has worked. Tonight, while I take a short visit to Godric's Hollow, you will be kidnapping the heir of choice."
Bellatrix grinned at the thought of her master carrying out the plan, "My Lord, I have a child in mind. My sister's son, Draco Malfoy, would be perfect."
"NO!" Voldemort snarled, "The child can not be from a prissy stuck up family. It must be someone with good, strong blood and high magical talent, Bellatrix."
Bella looked tentatively at her master once more before responded, an idea crossing her dark features, "What about the Weasleys? They may be blood traitors, but their children are talented, no denying that. If we kidnapped one before their mind was trashed with rubbish..."
Voldemort sighed as soft, hissing sigh, "I suppose a blood traitor would work if they were under 6 months of age," he mused, "But the Weasley child is almost 18 months."
"My Lord, not the boy Weasley, the youngest and only girl is what I am thinking. She is just over 2 months and has not been 'inflicted,' so to speak," Bella responded, her haughty manner returning.
"Well, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord responded to his most faithful servant, "Go and organize a raid party for tonight. You have my future to save," he hissed, indicating her dismissal and his approval.
As Bellatrix Black's dark figure strutted from the room, the lights darkened once more and the only thing visible, again, was Lord Voldemort pale white, snakelike face.
