Princeps Serpentum RSHG
A SS/HG fanfic by Severus Sortiarius
A/N:I OWN NOTHING, This is for my amusement and others if you feel so incline to venture with me...The Characters and all rights Belong to J.K. Rowling, but I like to venture into her playground...particularly when it comes to a certain Potions Master...No Money is being made off this...and I'm quite alright with that...Stress relief and letting my imagination run wild is all I care about here...and of course Reviews...I'll try and watch my spelling but it does tend to go awry in the heat of the moment when typing so bare with me...RATED M and it's not changing...I won't be as descriptive as some other writers out of respect to the characters, but I will make them HUMAN.
WARNING: Contains Mature Content...M FOR MATURE...Violence, Abuse, Torture, Sexual Content, Dark Themes, Language, Imprisonment
{A/N: This fanfic is a response to Adam Driver looking a lot like Alan Rickman as Snape, and I figured if he had been able to play Snape's son this is how I wanted the story to go...This is a re-post for those of you whom have read this before...}
Prologue: The Prince Of Sorrow
{"She's out on the corner trying to catch a glimpse...Nothing's making sense...She's been chasing an answer...A sign lost in the abyss, this Metropolis...She says "Yeah, he's still coming, just a little bit late"...He got stuck at the Five and Dime saving the day"...She says "If life was a movie, then it wouldn't end like this"...Left without a kiss...Still, she smiles, oh the way she smiles, yeah...She's talking to angels, she's counting the stars...Making a wish on a passing car...She's dancing with strangers, she's falling apart...Waiting for Superman to pick her up...In his arms yeah, in his arms yeah...She's waiting for Superman..."}Waiting For Superman, Daughtry
Room 207, St. Mungo's Hospital, Muggle World...
A seemingly impregnable silence filled the highly sterilized room of a lone woman sitting in chair beside the massive Hospital window. The constant clicking of the clock that hung on the wall opposite her in the moderate sized hospital room was the only sound that broke the consistency of the dreaded silence in addition to the rain that beat against the large glass window. The cool air did little to cause the staring woman with a misery aged face and her brown eyes filled with tears to make any movements outside of a shallow form of breathing. Her attending doctors and frequently visiting nurses often tried to get her to engage in the activities of the hospital in a bid to get her well. For all their treatments and supposed diagnosis they knew very little about her current medical condition.
The soft patter of the rain against the window only seemed to intensify the loneliness as she continued to stare out the large window, taking in the swollen dark gray clouds that appeared almost black with the setting of the sun and the absence of the moon and stars. Even as she sat there nearly motionless and in the undisturbed silence of the hospital room she'd been placed in the 55 year old brunette saw flashes of a distant memory.
She recalled every moment she'd spent looking unto the same sorrowful pair of obsidian eyes and wanting so badly to mend the hurt they hid behind them. Tears streamed down her cheeks much like the raindrops had the window as she continued to recall the last time she had seen them.
Her poor heart had been consumed by the weight of loneliness when news came from some stranger clad in a fancy suit with unsympathetic eyes that those same enchanting eyes of obsidian had been forever closed and the hurt behind them had never been mended, only intensified at the end.
More tears signaled the release of her own pain as she fell further and further into the realm of her memory unable to let it go. Those eyes had belonged to a boy she once knew, who's life had been thrust into chaos before he was able to take his first breath and it consumed him when he took his last. She had not been there at the end, when it had all been said and done and it had little to do with choice.
The ache in her heart seemed to deepen as she recalled the vivid details of his gruesome end, reported by the unfeeling stranger that held nothing but contempt for the misunderstood boy whom no one but she dared to love. She had even believed his inner sadness beautiful and his every action in the wake of it as tragic as a painting done by a soul tormented when put on display, she saw herself as the only one with eyes to appreciate such things in when recalling the best and the worst of him.
Yet her love remained.
As tragic as her current situation had become, she recalled that there was one gift that had been left for her by the now dead boy with sorrowful obsidian eyes that she had come to love all those years ago.
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The Sterile Halls, St. Mungo's Hospital, Muggle World...
Heavily polished ebony colored dragon-hide boots clicked against the slick white floors of St. Mungo's Hospital. They belonged to a rather pale man with nearly six foot three in terms of height with lengthy raven hair that had come down passed his shoulders and a face covered via an unshaven beard due more to neglect than deliberate intent. His body had been mostly thin aside from his muscular frame well hidden beneath what appeared to have been a lengthy ebony frock coat, Victorian in style and a non-pressed long sleeve white shirt barely peeking from beneath the high collar of the coat and high buttoned sleeves that came toward the center of his large pale palms.
He approached the desk causing the receptionist to nearly fall out of her seat as she trembled upon seeing him.
"Where is she?" demanded the deep baritone voice of the man staring her down as if he could peer into her very soul.
"She's in her usual room." replied the terrified receptionist.
The ebony clad man took his leave of the trembling young woman and made his way toward the rooms labeled in the 200 section of the hospital.
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Room 207, St. Mungo's Hospital, Muggle World...
The sorrowful obsidian eyes of a man thirty-four years of age had been trained on a lone woman sitting beside the window watching as the rain came streaming down the window pane, fogged by the warmth of the room and her breathing in combination. He had known all too well what she was doing. She had been like that for the passed nineteen years, staring out the window searching.
The saddened man sighed knowing all too well what he had been told by her collective attending doctors and nurses.
He had dedicated his life to ensuring his mother had the best care possible given how everything turned out. She was always staring out the window recalling the first night she met him, the strange wizard in black whom had saved her life all those years ago.
He had been twenty one then, newly recruited into the group of monstrous wizards calling themselves death eaters.
The young man had heard these death eaters were the flunkies of a much more powerful wizard named Voldemort. His mother had told him the stories over and over when he was old enough to understand. From his mind's eye, he had seen the dark wizard that had been his father up until he had to leave, speaking of a strange magical school called Hogwarts.
His father never wanted him to attend and instead sent him to get his magical education overseas to the new world, North America.
Ilvermorny, school of witchcraft and wizardry had been his home away from home ever since.
It was strange that he ended up in Horned Serpent, while his mother told him his father was in Slytherin House at Hogwarts. His father became Head of Slytherin House and finally Headmaster following the death of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
During his sixth year at Ilvermorny, he received word that his father had been killed during the second wizarding war. He immediately returned to England where his mother had been as she was now, silent and always sitting by the window...waiting.
The doctors and nurses told him they had done all they could and it was simply a matter of time. The knowledge that he was losing the only family he had left was weighing heavily upon him.
Faced with the inevitable, he decided to do one thing for his mother, the thing that he had been toying with as far as idea's were concerned in the hopes of bringing her back to him. He had transfigured his casual muggle attire into an outfit similar to what his father used to wear when he was a boy and newly arrived from the wizarding world.
He entered his mother's room and she immediately turned to face him.
He could see her tears swell behind her dark eyes as she looked at him.
"Severus." she said softly as if she had waited a lifetime.
Her son, had been an inch taller than his father making him six two to his father's notorious six one height advantage. He had the same lengthy raven hair that draped down to his shoulders and his face had been clean shaven revealing his smooth notoriously pale skin that he had inherited from his father as well.
The young wizard simply walked over to the ailing woman and wrapped his arms around her. She burst into tears as he held her as if she had been holding them back for the last nineteen years.
"I've missed you." she said softly. "You should see Regulus, he's become such a handsome young wizard and he's as talented as you are...I just hope that he finds happiness someday...it's the least that could be done for him given all that's happened."
The ailing woman's son simply nodded his pale face grim and expressionless as she spoke of him to "his father". He had not wanted to do anything to cause her to revert back to her former expressionless status as she sat beside the window.
The rain continued to pour against the outside of the hospital as Regulus' mother held him close and hummed a bit seemingly happy for the first time in nineteen years.
"Will you dance with me?" she asked softly. "Like before when we were home and there was no war between us?"
Regulus nodded and escorted her to the center of the room. He had watched his parents dance for years finding it the best source of entertainment since they invented the telly back then. Slowly and carefully, he moved as his father would gliding his mother across the floor with his ebony coat-tail moving about as his father's had when he danced with her.
The ailing woman rested her head on his shoulder and he continued to move about as she hummed her little tune.
"I've missed you so much." she said softly as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why couldn't you come back to me?"
Regulus said nothing as he continued to dance with his mother not truly knowing the answer to the question she posed, one he had asked in his mind at least a thousand times when watching the poor woman crumble from the weight of the loss they suffered.
They had been told his father was killed in Hogwarts' boating house, dubbed "The Shrieking Shack", when the despot Voldemort slit his throat and ordered his serpent Nagini to kill him, all for possession of something called The Elder Wand. A wand that his father was mistakenly believed to have been the master of.
The young wizard had been so preoccupied with his memories of the day they found out his father had been killed, he hardly noticed his mother had stopped humming. It wasn't long before he noted she has stopped dancing all together and a node of panic went through him like wildfire.
Elaine Louise Snape died right there as the rain beat against the outside of St. Mungo's Hospital as her son danced with her dressed in the same ebony attire his father wore before his death nineteen years prior.
Regulus Snape led his mother toward the bed and lied her down as if she were sleeping before sitting in the chair beside her bed still dressed like his father as tears swelled in the corners of his obsidian eyes.
He had truly been alone now as the sound of the rain became all that could be heard from the room.
The young wizard thought back to his parents and how their lives were complicated by the wizarding wars because of despot's like Voldemort. The anger swelled within him as he caught sight of The Daily Prophet, on the cover was the infamous Harry James Potter, the boy whom his father had died protecting.
The lonely American based wizard turned his smoldering obsidian eyes back to the rain as it truckled down the window in silence.
