Snape watched as the first years exited his class. He didn't have words to describe the extreme distaste he held for the young runts. Thus it is only natural he be aggravated to find that one of them had stayed back to bother him with some unintelligent question. Tom Riddle approached Snape's desk slowly. Snape knew that the boy had been meaning to talk to him for a week now. A few of the other teachers told his that Tom had been searching for him the day the first years got sorted. He had been purposely avoiding the confrontation. The boy was raised by a death eater and he suspected that any conversation they had was going to be full of uncomfortable questions.

"Hey um Professor. I was wondering if you could answer some questions?" Tom asked

Snape sighed," I don't suppose that you want to know about potions," he asked hopefully.

Tom shook his head, "No I made my first cure for boils potions when I was four I believe I'm quite clear on how to do it by now. I was wondering if you could tell me about my father."

Snape's eyes grew dark. He wasn't entirely certain this talk was going to be pleasant before this point, now he was sure, "Augustine York?"

Tom nodded. Snape thought back to his several encounters that he had had with the man. He didn't want to bring that knowledge of York into this boy's life. Whatever had happened over the last few years Tom seemed to have a connection to him. It was as if he really wanted York to be that perfect father and it was crushing him that he wasn't. Snape tried to make it seem like he knew nothing," What, may I ask, would delude you into coming across the notion that I have any knowledge of the man."

Tom looked at his feet, "Dumbledore said you used to be one of them and that you have a mark like me. He said that you knew him."

Snape nodded. Dumbledore must think that it was the boys right to know. Snape disagreed, but he was in no situation to do anything about it. He scowled slightly before starting to tell Tom about his father's past, "As I would hope you have inferred by now, The Dark Lord was a very secretive man. He was cautious and was not quick to confide in any of his of his followers. York was one of the few of us who He seemed to trust. No one was privileged with the knowledge of York's actions and whereabouts."

"But you knew him right?" Tom interrupted nervously.

"I was one of the few graced by his presence, yes,"Snape said, his lips curling slightly, "Most of what I know of him has been passed to me through rumor, the most reliable of which I heard from Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What did she say?" Tom asked, his voice sounded scared.

"I believe the muggle word for it is serial killer," Snape pondered," He murdered for his own personal need. The Dark Lord was a convenience for him, an outlet for his own obsession with murder. According to Lestrange, he went mad after he graduated from Hogwarts. By the time The Dark Lord took him in he had already killed several wizards and many more muggles. From my own personal experience I find this account plausible, though it may or may not be accurate. Occasionally a wizard or which would disappear, one that wasn't on His list, no one truly knows what happened to these wizards; however, we all have our… suspicions."

With every word that Snape said, Tom looked more and more miserable. There was one more thing that he knew of Augustine York. This final account was quite grotesque and Snape thought it best if the boy was saved from such a memory.

"I want to know," Tom said his voice cracking. Snape was startled momentarily by the Tom's knowledge that he was holding something back. Snape had fooled Voldemort himself that he knew less than he actually did, but this kid seemed to be able to see right through even the tiniest of lies.

Snape bit his lip and continued, "The Dark Lord liked to gather his followers, to show us all the extent of his greatness," Snape sneered out the word greatness like it was poison, "A young man named Hunter chose one of these meetings to voice his dissent. It was moronic of Hunter to actively defy Him in the presence of an army of Death Eaters. By no means did his accusations waver anyone's positions, The Dark Lord actively laughed at him. It was York who executed Hunter's punishment." Snape had no intention of elaborating more on the subject.

Tom sat on a desk in front of him, looking unnaturally pale. "What did he do?" the boy asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I believe it is time that you leave now," Snape said curtly.

"Please professor, I need to know," Tom pleaded.

"Although you seem to think you are an adult, you aren't," Snape snapped," There are some things that you simply don't need to heard."

Tom looked down at the floor, grief was written across the boy's face. Snape could still picture York's violet eyes glowing like a madman; his copper hair was blowing wildly in the wind as he held Hunter's mangled body high for everyone to see. Tom didn't need the gory details on his conscience.

"He told me that once a death eater always a death eater. You left. How?" Tom asked his voice cracking again. He had yet to shed a tear though it looked like he might soon.

Snape's features hardened as he thought back to the reason why he left. His Lily lying on the floor, dead, her green eyes open and lifeless, only to reappear again in the form of a retched second coming of James. He shut his eyes tried to focus just on the leaving, and not the why.

"I am not a fool, walking around announcing that I no longer followed the Dark Lord," Snape spat, "He never knew that I no longer considered myself allied with Him. As far as He was concerned I was a double agent."

"Do you think that my father ever cared? Did he ever feel sorry for it all?" Tom whispered. Snape knew that Tom already knew the answer. He needed to hear it out loud though.

Snape shook his head, "No I don't think he is even capable of such an emotion." Tom nodded and Snape knew that the indirect message was received. York didn't care about Tom as a person, as a son. He only cared that he was a weapon to be used in the mass destruction of the muggle race.

"Do you think any of the others can stop? I mean are they all monsters too?" Tom asked.

Snape thought about that one for a minute. Tom shouldn't care about whether the others could are bad or not. They don't relate to him. Snape eyed the bandages wrapped around his hands. He was the others, "The others made a choice to follow. Whether they regret that decision or not, is their business. It was a choice though, leaving would be their choice too," Snape replied.

Tom nodded though he didn't look convinced. Snape frowned inwardly. Tom reminded Snape of himself. Not when he was thirteen, but when he realized that the Dark Lord was going to kill his Lily. The boy was probably feeling betrayed, and grief stricken. The worst part was the pain though. Pain derived from nowhere with no source. The never ending pain that made you question why you get out of bed every morning. It was the type that didn't heal with time. The only thing that came with time was the knowledge of how to mask it, to make the world think that you were ok. It didn't have to be that way with this boy. Lily was his life and he will never truly live again without her here. This boy has a chance to get over it to move on. He had lost his twin brother. At the time it was all Tom had, but Snape knew that it wasn't the end of Tom's life. He still had a chance to find someone who could make it better, someone else whom he could love. Snape would never have that, no his life ended when Lily's did.

Snape thought briefly about comforting the boy before pushing the thought away. He was never good at showing such sympathy, and any attempt he made would be useless. Tom looked at the clock, "I should get going I'm going to miss transfiguration."

"You missed lunch. Do you want to eat here I will write a note excusing you?" Snape offered feeling uncomfortable.

Tom paused, "Yeah. Thanks."

Snape nodded and got him the sandwich that he had originally planned to eat for lunch handing it to Tom.

"Oh one more question. Why does everyone call me Tom. They call everyone else by their last name?" Tom asked

"Riddle is the name that belongs to the Dark Lord. You are not the Dark Lord," Snape replied.

Tom nodded finished his sandwich and ran off to catch the remaining minutes of his transfigurations class.