Child of Darkness

Part Two

HELLO! I have finally, after all this time, written out the facts that make Child of Darkness feasible. (But they are not until the end of this chapter...for reasons that you are about to experience).

Until then, please enjoy the second chapter; I hope it generates as much interest as the first!

They didn't mention the conversation in Dumbledore's office again, over the next fortnight. Severus had regained control of his emotions almost as soon as he had left the Headmaster's study, and seemed almost back to his old self.

Except. He was spending more time in his office. He was withdrawn in conversation—more so than usual. He was white faced, black lines circling his tired eyes.

He didn't tell anyone what he was doing when he was teaching. Appearances at mealtimes were rare—but Albus had outlined that no one was to nag him; Severus did not have to attend dinner, anyway. He made sure a house elf delivered food to him each evening—he didn't want the boy starving to death.

So while the teachers laughed and talked and ate, Severus sat in his office, head lowered over a piece of parchment, face hidden behind greasy hair. His quill scratched across his page—writing down dates.

The dates that he knew.

He wished he hadn't...the more he looked at this, the more possible it became.

Could he be? Could he be the Dark Lord's son?

Why else...why else would the Dark Lord tell him? What good would it do? Why not just kill him?

Unless he was useful for something, of course. He had studied rituals that needed family members—but why had no one ever told him?

It couldn't be true. It was...foolish to...

But he couldn't help picturing what his childhood could have been like. Instead of living with a loud, violent and abusive father...he could have been closer to the Dark Lord.

Shivers ran down his spine—but the Dark Lord was evil. He knew that. It was the reason he had come back to Dumbledore and Hogwarts. He had become disillusioned—and had decided that the Dark Lord needed defeating.

The idea of being the spawn of the person he despised most...he could dissolve into tears once again.

He screwed the parchment up into a ball and hurled it into the fireplace.

Albus had told him it was not true. Albus, who knew everything. Albus, who had known his mother and what the Dark Lord had been.

There was no way Dumbledore could be wrong.

He glanced at the food, brought to him by a dutiful house elf under Albus' command. He looked at it for a long moment. The thought of eating did not appeal to him.

Instead, he stood and walked toward the bed. He could not remember the last time he had slept.

But as he lay underneath the emerald green cover, turned over onto one side, his eyes lingered on the fireplace, watching the paper turn into ashes.

Albus looked up with a warm smile when the thin black figure slipped into one of the chairs further down the breakfast table. Severus looked tired, staring at the food in front of him, unsure of what to eat. "Severus." He murmured, leaning over Minerva so he could see into the younger man's face. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, Headmaster." He replied respectfully; he noticed that Minerva was also watching him with a concerned expression. "I have been busy."

"It is good to see you." Albus sat back and continued to eat his fried eggs, concentrating his attention on the students in front of him.

Severus decided on dry toast, looking into his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Fluttering of many wings signalled the arrival of the morning Owl Post; as usual, Albus' elegant eagle owl distributed many letters in front of the older man. Unusually, a letter flew down and landed in the middle of Severus' empty plate. He frowned, picking the envelope up and opening it.

He knew the handwriting on the first page of the letter instantly; Dear Severus, the letter read, I took the liberty of asking the Healers at St Mungo's to have a look at some of the blood that you left on my carpet during your last visit. I hope you find the results satisfying.

He turned his attention to the second sheet of parchment.

Albus picked up the black envelope at the bottom of the pile, looking at it bemusedly. In his hand, the letter transformed—into a parchment serpent. A forked tongue tested the air, before a voice that was nothing more than a hiss rang out in the Great Hall. "Dumbledore; congratulations on keeping the Riddle of Severus Snape secret for so long. I hope he is suitably disturbed; please tell him that I expect his visit soon enough."

Albus knew that the entire student and staff faculty had heard the voice, and many recognised it—but that was not his first concern. His eyes went straight to Severus, who was staring at him, one hand holding his letter in a tight fist. He recognised the signs of hurt on Severus' face—before the younger man suddenly stood, pushing his chair back violently, and sweeping from the Hall toward the dungeon stairs.

"Severus!" Albus shouted, following the retreating figure down the corridor—but Severus did not stop. "Severus, stop!"

"I will hear no more lies, Dumbledore!" His voice shook violently, and Dumbledore felt his heart twist at the pain he knew Severus must be feeling.

"You need to listen to me!"

Severus turned abruptly, "Why? Why should I listen to you? Why should I listen when all you do is LIE TO ME?"

"I did...what I thought was best...Severus..." Albus knew there was very little he could say—how could he explain this to him?

"Best? This...THIS changes EVERYTHING!" Severus cried wildly.

"No. No, it doesn't." Albus exclaimed, "This does not affect you and your character and your personality Severus, you must understand that!"

"I AM THE SON OF THE DARK LORD!" Severus bellowed, "How does that not "affect my character"? I am the son of the evillest wizard of all time! You think this is something that should be kept SECRET?"

"I had no choice!" Albus answered, "It was your mother's wish that you were not told who had fathered you." He held out a hand, "Come. Let me talk you through..."

"No!" Severus drew away, "I don't need you! Go away! Leave me alone!"

"Severus, believe me, nothing has changed—"

"I've changed." Severus whirled on his heel and stalked off toward his office. Less than a minute later, Albus heard the loud slamming of a door. He rested his head in his hand for a moment. "Damn."

Severus stood in his office, breathing heavily, trying to fight the onslaught of tears. He took one step forward, looking again at the letter in his hand.

Pure, hard fact, confirming what he had dreaded most. He relied so much on facts and logic, but he wished that they could be wrong.

And yet. Somewhere in his heart, he knew. He knew that it was true.

With a cry of anger and hate, he threw the letter onto the ground—and then pushed the books and papers from his desk. He slumped into the chair behind his desk, hiding his face in his hands.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"Albus!" Minerva's voice, "What was all that about?" She asked, referring to the letter delivered to the Headmaster at breakfast. Albus had been hoping to return to his study and decide how to weather the storm that was brewing in his young Potions' Master. He turned to look at her, "Lord Voldemort has many secrets, Minerva; he has simply chosen to reveal one of these."

"Yes, but what does it mean? Why does he mention Severus? Is it something to do with the other night?" She was more intelligent than he gave her credit for—and with the stern expression and folded arms, she was also intimidating. Albus sighed, "Minerva, I can't. It is up to Severus to tell what is happening. Heavens, I have made enough mistakes with this..."

Minerva stared at him for a moment, "Should we be worried?"

Albus' eyes were dark. "Yes."

He sat in his office, stroking his beard, watching the Penseive in the corner of the room. It was glowing—he needed to show Severus that one memory.

But he doubted the younger wizard would even talk to him.

Rightfully; Albus knew he had done wrong. He just wanted to make things better.

What was he supposed to do now?

Almost in answer to his mental question, his door was thrown open. Severus stalked across the room, standing in front of the desk. He was dressed in a travelling robe.

"Where are you..." Albus started, but Severus interrupted. "I came to give this to you."

He slammed a letter onto the desk in front of Albus. "What's this?" The older man asked, picking it up.

"My resignation." Severus answered abruptly.

"Severus!" Albus looked up at him, "You can't! Don't do this, you need to think..."

"No. I've done enough thinking. I cannot stand to be here with you, Dumbledore. You lied to me." His voice was calm.

"Please, Severus. I'm sorry that you have had to find out like this...but please...try to think rationally. You cannot leave here; Voldemort is dangerous. He knows about you, and your allegiance to me."

"You can consider that allegiance broken." Severus turned away.

"Don't go." Albus stood up, "I can't lose you over this."

Severus looked back, black eyes sparkling with unshed tears, "I am already lost."

He walked away.

Everything was different now. Everything had changed. His whole life...meant nothing.

For he was a pure blood.

He wasn't a Snape.

He was the son of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

That was why his footsteps had led him here. He needed...not the truth. He had the truth.

Why was he here?

"Severus Snape. I knew you would return." There was a long pause. "Or should that be...Severus Riddle?"

The truth is revealed. I have no idea where I am going with this...but rest-assured, I aim to continue it! It's so much fun to write!

And, for those of you who had doubts, here is the basis on which Child of Darkness is written.

Tom Riddle was born in 1926 (HP Wiki). It is suggested that Eileen Prince was born in the 1930s (HP Wiki); as I have stated that there is a four year gap between Riddle and Prince, this would mean she would be born in 1930.

Tom Riddle left Hogwarts in 1943; Eileen Prince left Hogwarts in 1947.

Severus Snape was born on January 9th 1960; Tom Riddle would have been 34 and Eileen Prince would have been 30. There have been thirteen years between leaving Hogwarts and Severus being born. This is more than enough time for Eileen and Tom to...get together.

Tom Riddle does not begin his first reign of terror until 1970; but he would have been planning it for a long time.

Tada! All thought out. If anyone spots any problems...please let me know!