INTRODUCTION: Greetings readers! Plot bunnies have definitely grappled me good lately, so this one had me really excited to delve into. As I am currently more focused on my novel-length sequel Light of Mine, I wanted to delve into an unrelated prequel focusing on Severus' journey as a dedicated Death Eater, to the events of the Prophecy. This fic will encompass some very dark themes/gore/adult content (I'll give you warnings at the start of the chapter beforehand, don't worry), also a heads up that there will be swearing throughout this as well. I usually hold back on the language in my other fics, so in this one, I've allowed myself to let loose a bit. This fic will not tread lightly. This will be purely in the DE's point of view, so expect some bashings of certain characters, naturally.
I'm honestly not sure how long I plan on delving into this story for, but it will not be a novel-length as I have previously written.
I hope you enjoy the ride into the dark side!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing by JKR, nor am I making any money from this. I am just enjoying the fun sandbox paved by this magic world.
"Good fucking riddance – "
After ending that long-awaited statement with a crude gesture up to the castle, Severus Snape boarded the Hogwarts Express for a final time with his mates, turning his back at last on the hellscape that was his school life.
For the last half of the year, Severus – for the first time in a long while – felt overjoyed.
Happiness never seemed to suit him, but the mere idea of leaving the school with an air of satisfied finality, made his lips twitch in the delight of it. No longer would he have to abide by the school rules like a whipped mule, or constantly look over his shoulders for the self-absorbed, fuckwit quartet, or have to live out his days avoiding Lily's green eyes alight with resentment, or even pity for him.
He wouldn't miss the teachers or the corridors that brought him grief. He wouldn't miss studying for exams of subjects that would provide him with no real value in the future. No longer would he have to practice the Dark Arts in secret and invent more spells for fear of them being turned against him again. No longer would he have to worry about sharing class with a werewolf, so lovingly hushed away from Dumbledore himself. No wonder would he have to endure petty name-calling or public humiliation.
Laughs, taunts, and baited for death.
No.
He was going to take back his life and regain some semblance of control away from Dumbledore's watchful eye.
That old, ignorant fool.
With every passing year, his hate for the Headmaster and his precious band of Gryffindors grew to monumental proportions and caused a permanent simmering anger brewing within him. The one thing he despised about himself was his destructive anger so adopted from his father, but it was so easy to ignite that fire within him. Years of being poked with metaphorical sticks sparked a vengeance within him and soon craved the strength he needed to fight for himself.
As long as he didn't have to deal with Potter again, he was relieved.
After the tiresome journey on the Hogwarts Express back to London, he waved goodbye to his friends and hauled his lackluster belongings, making the long journey back to Spinner's End. However he made it home in one piece, he would never fathom. Apparition did not come naturally for him, and although he passed the test with flying colors and obtained his license, it was definitely a method of travel he wasn't too fond of.
He managed to land in the dark cobblestone alleyway in desolate Cokeworth, several dismal streets from home. Already he could spell the putrid smoke from the nearby factories as they wound down for the evening. The darkened night sky was obscured by dark grey rain-filled clouds, and he felt several drops land on his limp hair as he walked. Hastening his strides, he arrived at the front door, tapped his wand on its handle, and pushed his way inside.
Immediately dumping his luggage in the entranceway, he slammed the door behind him in time for the rain to begin pelting at the cracked windows. The house was dark and murky. The faint light from the streetlamps pooled inside in a dull glow, casting eerie shadows across the floor. He flicked on one of the larger cracked lamps in the hallway, with a globe working on its last bit of energy. His nose wrinkled at the old, putrid smell which wafted through the house, smelling as if a couple of rats had died somewhere. The dusty, musky smell was bothering him, knowing full well no one had been here for over a year. Old, faded patterned wallpaper hung off in sad shreds, with pieces missing from the floorboards as if chewed away by termites and other vermin. Furniture still surprisingly standing, but untouched for months, seemingly appearing as if they'd toppled over with the faintest of contact.
Severus remembered staying at Hogwarts during his last Christmas there, so he himself had not set foot in that house for quite some time. He always avoided returning if he could help it, knowing deep within the pit of his gut, that his mother was always left behind with him. His mother Eileen ended her life after an altercation with his father during the start of his sixth year, and his father fled never to be seen or heard from again. Likely to bed multiple other women in his drunken stupor, which wasn't all that surprising to him. Evidence of his father's last remaining months was apparent by the multitude of empty alcohol bottles littered throughout the small, cramped house.
He absolutely despised being back here, but he had nowhere else to go. He knew there was much work to be done in order to make this place liveable again, but he needed to do what he could to make some sort of home for himself. Hogwarts was no longer a place to fall back on, so now he was thrown into the real world, forced to survive life on his own.
Severus was able to trudge through and survive the last few years of his Hogwarts life with his two best mates. Avery and Mulciber were quick to take him under their wing as soon as they comprehended the cowardice acts upon him by the so-called Marauders and began to tease his intrigue on advancing his interest and skill in Dark Magic. He was curious as to what those Slytherins meant, and soon enough, they were telling him about a group of Dark Wizards intent on gaining power over the Muggles and their world, forcing themselves out of hiding so caused by the Statute of Secrecy. Slowly and surely Severus' eyes widened in excitement at the possibility of honing his skills and seeking safety amongst the ranks of incredibly powerful Dark Wizards.
All that power and knowledge to be had – it was all very appealing. The only thing he learned at Hogwarts was how to survive, and now, he could begin to find his own sense of purpose in a world that abused him at every turn. He was sick of being attacked, humiliated, mocked, tortured, and hurt. He was sick of being a punching bag to those who felt entitlement and dominance over him.
He simply had enough. And for once, he felt like he found a purpose.
Severus felt the obsessive pull to belong to this mysterious, guerrilla faction – these Death Eaters, as they were so named – and fight for his right to protect himself against anyone else who tried to hurt him again.
Well, he could at least try.
He was a meager Halfblood Slytherin with skills, not even his Professors would dare recognise. He was lanky, physically unappealing and a pitiful excuse for a wizard aiming to join such an elite group fighting for his own magical rights. His threadbare clothes were evidence of his childhood poverty, and now he had the dreaded task of trying to find work to earn enough galleons to get by. They would take one look at him and laugh. He had no money to his name from a magical family who had long since cast his mother and himself away, embarrassed by the Muggle blood married into them.
Hogwarts was done with him and now he was left to his own devices.
Severus barely had the energy to start cleaning and repairing the ghastly-looking home, so instead focused on his room in order to prioritise a good night's rest. He climbed the stairs to the first floor and wandered to his own room, hit again by a putrid smell of some sort of carcass of a small animal.
Probably a stray cat that got in, or something.
With a grumbling stomach knowing he hadn't eaten since the morning's breakfast, Severus cleaned his room as quickly and best as he could with a few flicks of his wand, soon collapsing and drifting straight off to sleep still wearing his day clothes.
He eventually awoke to a persistent rapt on the window by a small grey owl, clasping an envelope in its beak. With bleary eyes in the harsh morning light, he managed to open the old, rusted window with great effort eventually retrieving the letter with the creature waiting patiently for him.
Carefully peeling open the letter, he began to read –
Hey Severus,
Marcus suggested we go out for celebratory drinks later. Keen on joining us at The Hogs Head? If you can bear the smell of stale, mangy goat, that is. I don't know what his fascination with that place is, but hey…a chance to get blind drunk while we drink away the memory of that wretched school.
Nothing like a few atomic shots won't fix.
Come hang out with us!
Seb.
Severus raised an eyebrow at the invitation, inwardly groaning at the mention of the Hogs Head. He hated that place too, but Vincent liked the desolation of the place and was less likely to bump into some of the Gryffindor stooges there.
Once the day rolled by, he threw on a basic black cloak that had seen better days and made the journey to the infamous pub just shy of six in the evening. With his head cast downward not wishing to be seen by anyone else, he made subtle glances inside the pub just as he walked through the door in his search for his friends.
With a smirk gleaming through his long, limp hair, he spotted two familiar faces obscured by a large mounted decorative tusk and briskly made his way to the corner to greet them.
The tall, dark-skinned one of the pair with a shaven head named Vincent Mulciber clasped Severus heavily on the shoulder as he sat down. His deep voice boomed, "The Prince has arrived!"
Sebastian Avery, the shorter, lightly stubbled chisel-jawed one with the windswept wavy brown hair grinned. Immediately he slid over a still icy cold pint of beer, "Cheers brother."
Severus slid into the chair before them and immediately clasped onto the handle of the glass, raising it in a salute before he took a sip. Beer wasn't his usual drink of choice, but he couldn't care less at this point. A weight off his shoulders brought him much relief as he drank away his student years, leaving that all behind him, "Well, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. Besides, I was sick of inhaling dust and mold since I arrived home."
"What the fuck for?" Vincent crinkled his brow in amusement.
Severus looked glum, "My bloody place. No one has been in there for ages, and I managed to find the carcass of a cat buried in the kitchen this morning."
"You need another place, mate, " Sebastian took a mouthful of beer, his eyes bulging from his face.
"You know my situation, Sebastian, " Severus sighed wistfully, "I'll make do for the time being until I find work."
"I told you I can hook you up to my cousin at Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary, " Vincent said, "He'll give you some odd jobs and errands. Easy stuff. He's always looking for help."
Severus shrugged, "I suppose. I just need to sort out my lab, first. The place is a fucking mess."
"The offer is there, mate, alright? We'll look after you."
Sebastian grinned coyly, "Look what you did, Sev. You turned Vincent into a big softie."
Vincent looked rather comically offended, "How dare you."
Sebastian gave a barked laugh, "Without being bound by the constraints Hogwarts gave us, we are free to pave our own way. Ain't that the dream! Seven years long awaited."
Perking up his shoulders with newfound vigor, Severus smirked, "A welcome relief."
Turning towards the bar, Vincent raised an arm, "Hey bartender – a round of firewhiskey and atomic shots, please. Make that two lots."
"Fuck, you even said please - " Sebastian sniggered behind his pint.
"Look, man, I just want to get wasted this evening. We've all earned it, " Vincent tapped his hands excitedly on the rickety wooden table, "It's been a shit year and now we can finally be done with that hellhole of a school. If I had to endure one more of Dumbledore's pathetic cryptic do-good speeches, I was going to get up and drown myself in the Black Lake."
"They do get rather tiresome, " Severus drawled, curling his lips distastefully, "Feels strange that we no longer need to deal with that nonsense."
"Well, he might still pose a problem, " Vincent shifted his eyes around, soon lowering his voice and turning his attention directly at Severus, "Remember what we talked about. We may soon be living in a new and better world - "
Sebastian cleared his throat, in time for the barman to deliver their ordered drinks with a precise hover charm. Vincent slipped the barman a few galleons and watched sharply as the older man wandered back to the bar. Sebastian leaned forward, grabbing hold of one of his whisky's, "We are treading on darker waters, here. But as we mentioned a few months ago, we must show our dedication to the cause. Get your name out there, and we will obtain what we seek. All in due time."
"Merlin, you sound like my father, " Vincent said, "I mean, even I can't get in with them until I prove myself. Family connections mean nothing. I mean, look at that Black sister…Astrid, or Andromeda, wasn't it? She decided to get laid by a Muggle and was immediately shunned by her family. You have to earn your place, prove your loyalty."
Severus' curiosity was indeed sparked, "How do we do this?"
Sebastian gave a smug, side-eyed glance at Vincent before turning back to Severus, "Lucius often holds end of year parties for the graduating Slytherins. They are carefully planned and secretive. Expect a letter sometime soon for a date."
Abhorred at the idea of a party, Severus didn't appear all thrilled about it, "It's not my idea of a good time."
"Are you a Slytherin or not?" Vincent laughed, "Connections, mate. Meet people and you might just get lucky. Soon enough you may even be doing far more than running mere errands for a potions shop."
"Show some excitement, Sev. This is what you've wanted for ages, innit?" Sebastian gave a friendly nudge to Severus, "After Potter and his thugs, you might have the opportunity to learn magic they would never dream of."
Perking up at the thought, Severus allowed himself to smirk at the idea of finally humiliating Potter, "You're right. There is much I still need to do, still, if I'm to ensure I am well-prepared."
"Nah, you're a natural. You have what it takes, but don't let the opportunities slip, alright? Take that from the two of us, who know people to have been with the Dark Lord."
With a new surge of promise and excitement, Severus cheered with his two best friends, spending the remainder of the evening pouring in the whisky. There was still so much to think about, and so much yet to do, that he didn't quite feel ready for this new venture. Perhaps he was a little nervous about the concept, but he knew deep down this was the only path for him.
The right path for him.
There was no other way, and this one tempted him beyond measure. His passion for the Dark Arts would prove useful, and now it was the mere thought of impressing someone within the Dark Lords' inner circle, which would be the most challenging.
It was a mystery how people were branded into the fold, but he knew it took much effort, dedication, and loyalty to do so. And a worrying amount of patience before that was to happen.
Severus knew he had what it takes. But sometimes the excitement of finally obtaining that strength and power overwhelmed his logic. But his heart felt right at this moment. He felt safe and completely sure of himself.
The following week rolled by painfully slowly, and since his drinking session with his mates several days ago, his hangover headache decided to persist longer than anticipated. He tried to work on fixing his flat and the amount of work yet to do on its old, crumbling surfaces was overwhelming. Now that his parents were out of the picture, he had the entire place to himself. He could barely touch anything in his parent's room and that was in no way a sentimental issue.
He forced himself to work on a room a day, doing his best to patch up whatever he could do to an adequate degree. He never thought in all of his Hogwarts years were Flitwick's pathetic cleaning and household repair charms would ever come in handy and he was far from being a domestic homebody. He needed a place to live, and this was all that he had, no matter how run-down and worn the house was. He didn't care at all for how it looked, so long as things held in place and provided him with the space to work, and that was all that mattered to him.
But he realised that he needed a place to brew his potions and had nowhere nor the right equipment for it. He decided to keep the study with the rare few dust-covered tomes as it was knowing full well it would prove useful to him. But after much deep thought, he made the decision to turn his parent's bedroom into a potions laboratory. That was good enough. It had adequate lighting, and with the newly charmed fume-dispersing vents, it was as good as he'll ever get for the time being.
Severus hauled in the little equipment he had from his student days, as he was dreading the idea of having to invest in better quality equipment. He felt a bit of shame having to use his student cauldrons and tools, but it was a start.
The next day he received another letter, this time from another more majestic owl.
Oi,
Lucius is hosting an end of school year party tonight. It was kept quiet for a while so one else could crash it, but he's inviting the other Slytherins interested in joining the cause.
See, patience, mate.
What better way to gain connections, right? We better see you there.
(And for the love of Salazar, get some decent bloody formal wear. The Malfoys don't take parties lightly)
RSVP to Lucius as soon as you can. He expects to see you there.
Vincent M.
"Formal wear? You've got to be bloody kidding me – " Severus mumbled to himself, soon retrieving a spare bit of parchment to send his response back to the owl squawking impatiently.
Malfoy Manor?
Oh, of course.
Dread suddenly ached in the pit of his stomach in all of his uncertainty. He was nothing, if not someone yearning to make a name for himself. For all his life he was beaten, used, neglected, and has stared death directly in the face.
No longer would he be made to look like a fool.
Severus had to fight for himself because no one else would.
…The Half-Blood Prince was ready.