A/N: Sooooo, I got the distinct impression some of you didn't like the fact that I killed Narcissa in the last chapter. So much so that a few of you even unfollowed the story directly after reading the chapter (wince). As I told someone in a PM, I needed a way for people to see that older Lucius is still the same one we see in the past, just buried under years of servitude. Draco and Hermione needed to see it the most. Temporarily killing Cissa was the fastest and most impactful way to do that I'm afraid. Worry not, she will be back thanks to Hermione and Severus's efforts in the past.
In regards to this chapter, I'm afraid the angst and tears continue, so please don't hate me.
The Death of Childhood:
1977…
Severus' left arm was burning. Like, caught in the fires of hell, burning.
Which was in complete contradiction to the euphoria racing through his veins like an overdose of Nirvana potion. (One of his own inventions that some of the students couldn't seem to get enough of.)
Between the two warring sensations, it was all he could do to remain upright. But his pride wouldn't let him fall at Voldemort's feet yet again. So he clenched his back teeth together, his screams of agony and moans of ecstasy locked away, and kept his eyes on the Dark Lord's wand as it drew a snake and skull tattoo on the inside of his left forearm in a deliberately drawn out manner.
Lucius had warned him that getting the Dark Mark would be one of the best and worst things he'd ever experience, but Severus hadn't really believed him.
He did now.
He'd honestly rather have the pain over the false pleasure that came with the spell. Severus didn't like that his body was reacting without his consent. Not even a little bit. He could see how some people would prefer to get their Mark with the continuous waves of nearly orgasmic bliss to blunt the pain of the soul-deep tattoo, but he was not one of them.
Not. At. All.
So he kept his eyes firmly affixed on the wand and his teeth gritted and he concentrated with every ounce of his being on focusing on the pain and bringing it the foreground.
He almost smiled in triumph when he felt the false pleasure in his veins fade away as his willpower overrode the spell, but his teeth were still glued together, so it was more of a grimace.
Either way, Lord Voldemort noticed and his gaze flew up to meet Severus'. His tattooing spell froze and a single eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline. "Interesting," the Wizard hissed. "Very interesting. No one's ever done that before."
Severus' smile turned a little more real as the fiery pain eased for a moment. His black eyes gleamed with pride but his tone, under the circumstances, was as apologetic as he could make it as he said, "Is that a problem, My Lord?"
Their eyes locked in a momentary battle of wills that Severus wisely let the older man win when Voldemort's eyes narrowed in warning. He dropped his gaze meekly and he was rewarded with an approving smile. "No. It's not a problem. You're control of your magic and emotions is very rare for one so young. Indeed, for almost anyone, actually. I'll finish this as quickly as possible, then, since you are choosing not to enlist the aid of the distraction spell."
"That's fine, My Lord. Thank you."
And so Voldemort returned to his task of marking Severus as one of his favoured followers, but he finished the last half of the tattoo in a tenth of the time that the first half had taken, proving to the young man that the Dark Lord had wanted Severus to be in pleasure / pain for as long as possible.
As Severus rolled his sleeve back down over the black, screaming, pulsing, and writhing tattoo, he thought, Most likely to help cement his hold on his followers to leave them with a lasting impression of power like they'd never felt before. A clever gimmick that I know for a fact works on practically everyone. They all follow him without question.
"That's right, they do," Voldemort said as he tucked his wand away, steel blue gaze locking on Severus' again. "You're thoughts are quite refreshing, Severus. You see everything so clearly. I look forward to your insights in the future. I feel you will be a great asset to myself and our cause." He tilted his head, lips pursed, as he thought for a moment. And then his expression lit up like he'd just thought of the best thing. Severus elected to not even try and guess what that could be, since his thoughts weren't as private as he'd like them to be.
Yet.
While keeping his focus on his Lord's words, in the very back of his mind, a secret resolution burbled to life; he would learn how to keep his thoughts to himself or die trying.
Voldemort smiled at Severus like he was granting him the best of gifts. "I think I will have you be my own personal spy. You are ideally suited to the task with your Legilimency and disillusionment skills."
"Thank you, My Lord," Severus said, chest inflating with pride. "And who would you have me spy on? The Minister of Magic? Dumbledore?"
Voldemort chuckled lowly, eyes crinkling in the corners with genuine amusement. "So ambitious. No, Severus. Those two don't need spying on anymore than they already are. What I think you'll be perfect for is to spy on my own followers. I know Dumbledore has at least two or three of his people planted in my lower ranks, but I just don't have time to interview everyone. Also, I want to know if any of my supporters are having any seditious thoughts. They'll be much more likely to talk or think these things when I am not present."
Severus blinked only once before he bowed his head in acceptance. "I am honoured to do this for you. Thank you for entrusting me with such an important task."
He put a hand on Severus' bony shoulder for a few seconds, smiling gently. "It is nothing more than you deserve, Severus." His hands went behind his back as his smile transformed into a smirk. "Of course, we can't introduce you as my new personal spy, so I think you'll need a front, and what better than that of our very own Potions Master? How does that sound to you?"
Severus gulped down the sudden well of emotion at how perfect this was turning out to be; he'd always wanted to be a Potions Master and make a respected name for himself by inventing new potions that the entire world would clamour for (and not just ones that kept students happy but real potions that made an actual difference in the world, like something that would cure Magical Disfunctionia, which was when a Wizard's own magic turns on and consumes itself until there is no magic left and the Wizard is left a Squib). "That sounds bloody brilliant!"
Voldemort chuckled. "Glad you approve. Now, in exchange for funding your Mastery, I would only ask that you would supply potions to myself and our followers as needed. Does that sound fair to you?"
"It does."
"Excellent." Again, that faint hiss as he drew out the word. Severus thought it might be an affectation, and if so, it was also an effective one, reminding his subjects that he was a powerful Slytherin, and as such, not to be messed with. "I will contact an old friend of mine who happens to be between Apprentices right now. I'm sure he'd love to take on such a talented young man as soon you're finished with school."
"Thank you, My Lord." And Severus meant every word.
"You're welcome, Severus." He smiled at him fondly. "Now come. It is time to reinvent yourself. I wish to see you demonstrate the abilities I see in your mind. We shall go to the dining room under your own disillusionment spell and you will Obliviate everyone here who knows who and what you really are and give them a new version of yourself to remember. And then we shall reenter the dining room and introduce you as my new Potions protégé. If that goes well, after dinner, you will continue on a tour of anyone else that needs their memories changed, and when it is done, you may summon me by touching your wand to the mouth of the snake on your Mark and I will deal with your despicable father, all right?"
"That sounds more than agreeable, My Lord." Severus wasn't sure if he was looking forward to this or not. In some ways, it would be a relief to almost be an entirely new person, but in others, he would miss what he had, especially with his Aunt and Lucius.
"Excellent," Voldemort said again as he started to glide out of the room with elegant strides.
Severus followed.
Three hours later, he was almost done with his mission. So far, he'd Obliviated everyone at the dinner party, his Prince relatives (who'd thankfully all been together at the Prince Manor in Lancaster, also having dinner, and now believed Eileen Prince to have died in a tragic muggle car accident with her unacceptable muggle husband only days after running away with him), Garrick Ollivander, and Lily.
The last had been rather sucky, because he'd had to go searching for her. She wasn't at home with her parents. Nor could she have been hanging out at the Potter residence since it had just been magically burnt to the ground with fiendfyre, which meant that it was irreparable. Having no idea where the Potters had holed up, he'd been afraid that he'd have to wait until he saw her again on the train to Hogwarts for the new term before he could change her memories, which he was sure would have displeased the Dark Lord, but on a whim, he'd tried the park near her house.
The same park they used to play in and held some of the best memories of his life.
And she was there, which had sent a familiar jolt of happiness through him before he squashed it down ruthlessly. Because she wasn't alone.
She and Potter were having a very romantic looking picnic dinner under the stars, surrounded by several warming charms to protect them from the cold December air. He hadn't even been standing there in the shadows for more than a minute, glaring at them laugh and giggle over who-knew-what, when they started eating each other's faces instead of the food strewn around them.
Somehow, that had made it very easy for him to Obliviate them both, just in case she'd told Potter about his past. Not that he thought she would give away his secrets, but he thought better safe than sorry.
And since he was messing with her anyway, he removed all the memories she had of them together in this park except for the first one where he showed her what magic was, essentially making them acquaintances and nothing more. And even though it hurt, he left the more recent memories of him, including the one where he called her a mudblood, because Potter would probably notice if she started acting differently towards him.
It was better for everyone if she remained cold to him.
Everyone else that knew him didn't know his origins anyway, not even the fact that he was a half-blood, because he'd wisely kept that fact to himself considering every single other person in Slytherin House was a pure-blood and anything otherwise simply wasn't done.
With all of the Apparating and all of the intensely concentrated magic use, he was starting to tire, but he had only one more stop to go before he could summon the Dark Lord.
The only flaw in Voldemort's plan so far had been the Malfoy house elves.
They weren't Obliviatable.
And some of them had seen what Severus had done to their masters, since disillusionment spells didn't work on them either.
But they were easily cowed into remaining silent, so that's exactly what the Dark Lord had done, going down to the kitchens and threatening them with lots and lots of pain (and giving a little demonstration just to make his point) if they ever told what they knew about Severus. Dobby and the others had quivered in fear and promised to not tell Severus' secret.
Severus hadn't liked any of it, but he'd made his thorned bed by taking the Dark Mark and already Obliviating the Malfoys, so now he had to sleep in it.
He'd tried to give Dobby an apologetic look, but the tiny elf wouldn't meet his eyes. He was afraid that Dobby wouldn't want to be his friend anymore after this, but he'd have to find out some other time, when he wasn't following the Dark Lord's orders.
Now it was time to perform the hardest part of his task; altering his mother's memories.
He really, really didn't want to, but he'd agreed, and it was more or less for her own good, so now he had to follow through with what he'd started or – and he was fairly certain about this - suffer the same fate as the house elves. The memory of them writhing on the cold stone floor in agony from the Cruciatus curse was still very fresh in his mind and kept him going.
Which he was literally doing right now, trudging from the park back towards his home in the dark, delaying the inevitable just a little bit longer.
He wasn't too surprised when Elehootay found him when he was only a few minutes from home, expecting her to have made it here by now. But her distressed sounding cry as she dove at him was certainly a shock.
"What is it, girl?" he asked as he held up his left arm for her to land on. He hissed as her talons dug into the fabric of his sleeve and even further into the tender flesh of the freshly tattooed skin. The pain was quickly forgotten as he spotted the letter and shrunken container he'd tied to her leg still there. He untied them and held them on the palm of his hand, dismay and fear starting to sink in "Mum!" he gasped. She hasn't taken them from her yet! Something must be wrong!
Father better not have hurt her again, he thought as he clenched the items in his fist and took off at a bolt to run the last two blocks home. Elehootay took off from his arm, following just above and behind him, hooting with worry. Technically, it would have been faster to Apparate, but his mind was starting to haze over with rage, and that was a good recipe for splinching himself, which he really didn't need right now.
Severus leapt the gate and slammed into the house, the front door hitting the wall with a bang that probably startled the neighbours. His father was asleep on the couch in front of the T.V., chin to chest and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his loose fist. The flickering pictures from the television did not cast the very wasted former military officer in a flattering light.
Severus barely spared him a glance before he yelled, "Mum?! Mum, are you all right?!"
There was no answer except for his father's grunt and snore as the noise disturbed him only momentarily.
He ran down the hallway. The bathroom was open, no one inside. The kitchen was empty, a stack of dirty dishes in the sink. If Mum was all right, there would be no dishes.
Close to hyperventilating now, Severus spun back around and nearly ran into his owl, who was so worried for him that she'd actually followed him into the house even though she knew not to unless he specifically told her it was all right. He just ducked the bird and ran to the stairs and up them, taking them three at a time with his long legs.
He found his mother in his own bed, where his father liked to dump her when she was 'ill' so she didn't disturb his sleep in the bigger master bed. Only her long black hair and her ashen grey face was visible under the haphazardly placed thin green blanket. Her eyes were closed and the lids looked paper thin. A huge purple bruise covered the side of her face that his father had struck yesterday morning.
Her lips were nearly blue.
"Mum," he gasped, running over to the small bed and falling to his knees beside her, the note and food container falling out of his suddenly nerveless hand. "Mum, Mum, Mum," he whimpered, his hand hovering over her face but not daring to touch.
He was petrified that she was dead.
Almost sure of it, in fact, until her lips parted and he heard an almost inaudible wheezing inhale. Severus sagged, head hitting the bed beside her as reactionary tears leaked from his eyes. Thank Merlin.
Another wheeze had him moving in a flurry.
While not trained as a healer, he'd nevertheless read enough medical books for situations just like this that he knew all of the diagnostic spells and what to do for most injuries. His new wand was in his hand casting those spells in only seconds. As he waited anxiously for the magic to do its assessments, he dug into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his shrunken trunk and grew it to its normal size so he could access the contents. Hidden inside the lid behind a false panel was row after row of potions in a multitude of colours and densities.
His passion and his main source of income.
He looked up and found that the diagnostics were finished. The readings made him grit his teeth as rage settled in him again.
His mother had a serious concussion, internal bleeding from a burst spleen, a punctured lung from one of four broken ribs, two crushed vertebrae, and a shattered fibula on her right leg. This was by far the worst condition she'd ever been in. "Fuck. What did he do to you? Throw you down the stairs?"
Another tiny wheeze was his only answer.
Swiping at the tears blurring his vision, Severus carefully sat on the bed beside her and pulled her upright just enough so that he could pour potions down her throat and have them actually go down and stay down. She moaned in her sleep but didn't awaken from what had to be terrible pain at the movement, which was probably for the best. And then he started feeding her the numerous potions she'd need to heal, from skele-gro to a strengthening solution, which, while not usually used for injuries, could be given in critical cases when the patient was near death to help jumpstart their systems again.
When that was done and her colour and breathing had already started to improve, Severus laid her back down on his bed and watched her for a few minutes with anxious eyes. When she took her first full breath, he did as well, relief making his bones fell nearly jello-like. And then, because he'd basically signed his soul away, he Obliviated her and replaced her memories of her abusive muggle husband with the story Voldemort had suggested and gave her the boringly common new maiden name of Greenwood. She'd never see her real husband again after tonight anyway so it was probably for the best that she didn't remember how much he'd put her through. Her new, imaginary muggle husband would still look like the one she'd actually married, but he'd be kind, if a bit emotionally distant, so she didn't miss him too much when she only remembered the fact that he'd died in a car accident that had also left her barely alive.
Now she just needed time to heal and someone to keep feeding her potions every few hours. He fully intended to be that person. And it most certainly wasn't going to be here in this house that he couldn't stand. Nor could it be at Malfoy Manor anymore since he'd just Obliterated their memories of her real identity, but they'd come roaring back if they got even a glimpse of how nearly identical she was to Elena Malfoy.
That left just one place where he felt safe – the Dark Lord's abode not even crossing his mind as something that qualified – Hogwarts.
But first, Severus was going to deal with his father once and for all, no longer content to let Voldemort do it for him.
Tobias Snape had beat up his mother for the last time.
