Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. I am not J K Rowling, obviously.

1993

He was drifting through the darkness. Formless, endless, without scale or time. He was nothing; he was everything, nowhere and everywhere. What could have been moments, stretched into aeons, and aeons, shrunk into moments.

"Come." came the sibilant thrumming of around him, just as lost as he was. "Come, my son." the sibilance came again, with no frame of reference where or when or how long ago it was uttered.

"Come, Viperius!" The sibilance was more stern this time, threatening in its harshness.

Fluidly, he twisted his form around, searching, looking, never finding. What could have been seconds or centuries passed until he caught sight of a pale, shimmering form. The sibilance thrummed once again, encouragingly as he headed towards it.

Soon, the indistinct form resolved itself into something more clearer, a person, his father. There were those who would describe his father as bearing resemblance to a simian. To him, his father looked more like an asp or a viper, waiting to strike, or perhaps, thanks to his preferred clothing, a cobra.

Eventually, he got close enough to the pale, shimmering figure to be able to recognise its face, his face. It bore an amalgam of expressions, joy, sorrow, longing. They were hidden with such cunning subtlety that only someone as familiar as he to the figure, could recognise them.

"We failed, my son." The figure expressed, without words, more by feeling and emotion radiating from his pale form. "We weren't prepared enough and we took too long." The nebulous figure faded slightly, before returning, not entirely, to its former brilliance.

"I know father, and I felt it, our anchor is gone, that is why we are adrift, we knew the risks, we paid the price." Viperius sighed inwardly, the taste of failure rank in his mouth.

The figure before him shook his head despondently, before seemingly coming to a decision. "No, my son. We paid the cost, but you shall not pay the price!" Anger suffused from the ghostly form of his father, not because of him, but because of situation. "Go forth, I give myself so that you may complete our task, you must succeed, in any way that you can, to accomplish on your own that which we could not."

Before Viperius could utter a protest, the figure before him exploded in a radiance of light, pulling on him, sucking him towards some unknown destination. The feeling was similar to Apparition, but a thousand times worse. He felt not only himself, but his mind and soul being torn apart, rebuilt, rethreaded over and over, the pain indescribable. It felt like an eternity, until suddenly, the incandescent whiteness surrounding him gave way to darkness.


Cold, his face was cold, and wet. He took a moment to laugh at the absurdity of it; he hadn't 'felt' anything on his face for what seemed a very long time. He took a moment to collect and catalogue all the aches and pains his now corporeal form was feeling. "Now, of course I realise just how bad of an idea that was after the fact." He muttered to himself.

Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet, forgetting for a moment where he was. That was, until, a familiar presence eased itself into his mind. He chuckled at himself, how could he have forgotten? With a wave of his hand, and a grunt of concentration, the chamber lit up into its full splendour, what little there was to begin with anyway.

Glancing around, he took in the view of the chamber, it was much the same as when they had left, the ritual markings as fresh and clear as they day they were drawn, although they were slightly smoking. Similarly, the offering bowls had curling wisps of silver smoke rising from them. It was well preserved, the only difference he could see was that instead of his father in the chamber with him, there was a pile of bones.

Ignoring them for the moment, he settled himself, somewhat painfully in a meditative position, letting the earlier presence ease itself back into his mind. "Hello old friend." He smiled to himself. "I think you need to tell me what's been going on around here since I left." He sank into the familiar presence, all else ignored.

Days, perhaps even months, passed until he finally awoke from his meditative state. What he had been told by his old friend had left him unhappy, very unhappy. More than a little bit angry, he rose, heading to the exit of the chamber. He had work to do, a task to accomplish. Pausing at the threshold of the chamber, he turned to the remains of his kin, left in the ritual circle.

"Goodbye Father." With an absent wave of his hand, he transfigured his father's remains into a Hogback, a type of grave marker that was going out of fashion when he was growing up, one which his father would have approved. Pausing further, only to douse the lighting within the room and transfigure his robe into something hooded, he left the chamber, a turmoil of emotions within him.

A/N: Well, here goes my first foray into publishing a fanfiction. Thanks to DavieTooWavey for helping beta read and edit this.