Body Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A Son for the Dark Lord

by: Serenthia

Chapter 4: Dolls

Voldemort, still sitting glumly on the tile floor in his bathroom, roused himself enough to realize that Severus was no longer sitting on his lap. Where had that little miscreant gone to? Hadn't Severus said something before he left? Something about being hungry?

Voldemort's eyes widened and he scrambled up, racing to his kitchen. Running was a bad idea. Upon entering his kitchen, his foot went sliding out from underneath him and Voldemort fell flat on his back, groaning. Dazed, Voldemort lifted his head.

Severus was sitting in a casserole dish, eating a loaf of bread and watching Voldemort. The floor was a mess, as was Severus. Honey, casserole (Severus appeared to have emptied the dish before taking up residence in it), bits of cheese, grapes, broken eggs, orange juice, milk, fruits, and vegetables lay scattered around his floor, covering it almost entirely. Severus matched the floor, right down to a broken egg on his head that was dripping down into his face.

Voldemort groaned in agony again and put his head back down, closing his eyes. "Why me?!" he asked. "Why me? What did I do?"

What had he done? Oh, nothing but kidnap the child from his mother to raise him to create his own army if it worked out. Nothing wrong with that. That was the normal thing Dark Lords went around doing. So why did he have to suffer so much?!

"Argh!" Voldemort hissed.

Feeling a weight on his chest, Voldemort refused to look at Severus. Maybe, if he ignored the boy he would go away in a puff of smoke.

Crack! Voldemort could feel an egg dripping down his face from his forehead. And then something cold and slimy touched his lips.

"Eat!" Severus commanded.

"No!" Voldemort hollered back.

But he had opened his mouth to scream and Severus had popped a noodle into it.

"Yummy!" Severus said.

The noodle was disgusting. It was cold, slimy, and seemed to have been drenched in honey and raw egg.

"You're nasty!" Voldemort told him, shoving him off his chest.

Severus fell into a large puddle of honey with a sigh. He put his hair into the honey and moved it around to coat the top of his head.

Voldemort watched Severus for a few seconds, debating on how best to kill him. Avada Kedavra? Or should he make Severus suffer?

Severus stood up and slid to the open fridge where he climbed in to take more food out. A bowl of pudding landed near Voldemort and shattered. Potatoes came rolling out of their bag, much to Severus's delight. He exited the fridge and tried to chase the potatoes around the kitchen, slipping, sliding, and causing the almost captured potato to roll away again.

Voldemort quietly extracted his wand and cleared his throat. Might as well do it now. Making Severus suffer was probably pointless. The kid wouldn't notice he was supposed to be suffering and enjoy whatever Voldemort had planned for him.

Sighing, Voldemort pointed his wand at Severus. There went his experiment and his army. "Avada Ked...."

"Father, help me," Severus said, falling down near a potato and staring at it with sorrow. "Me can't get it!"

Voldemort blinked. Father? Sounded like something Lucius would say. Had Lucius referred to Voldemort as Severus's father while talking to Severus? Well, that was what he had told Lucius.

"I'm coming," Voldemort growled as he pocketed his wand, and crawled over to the potato. "I'm too sentimental," Voldemort said, shaking his head.

One little word and he was putty in Severus's hands.

Voldemort captured the misguided potato (imagine it trying to escape from his wee one) and the rest of the potatoes, putting them in the pudding bowl he repaired. Severus was delighted. He sat in Voldemort's lap, picked up a potato and ate it.

"You need toys," Voldemort decided, "and a play room that I can keep you in during the day so you can't get into any trouble. Looks like Lucius will be baby-sitting again!"

A quick shower for the both of them and Severus was once again in clean robes, though Voldemort doubted it would be for very long.

Lucius was only too pleased to watch Severus again. Crabbe and Goyle, both Death Eaters too, were visiting him, and Voldemort got perverse delight in handing Severus over to the three of them. What he could make his minions do!

Voldemort first cleaned his kitchen, making sure that he now put everything into plastic bowls that had lids on them that wouldn't come of, even if thrown around and jumped on.

At the toy shop, Voldemort, disguised as an old man, picked out a ton of toys. Blocks, toy broomsticks, card games, books, a cauldron, a potion making set, a few hideous dolls that resembled dementors (for Halloween), a toy wand, and other toys that Voldemort just put into the cart. It was expensive but Voldemort didn't care. He was charging it to Caldius.

Next came choosing the room. A large room that Voldemort only used for a sitting room would do, he had two other living rooms so it wasn't like he was being deprived of space. Voldemort carefully put spells on the walls so Severus couldn't damage them and so they were soft. Putting the toys around the room, Voldemort conjured up tables from around the house and cut their legs in half so they would be child sized. A few chairs went around too. Next came a long, narrow trunk for nap-time. Voldemort took a side off and put it against a wall so Severus could crawl into it and fall asleep. It looked reasonable. The walls, Voldemort painted them black and carefully put in fake slime and mold along one wall. The bookshelf that housed the books was also painted black and Voldemort painted on a few creepy-crawlies.

Satisfied, Voldemort threw a drying spell at the paint and then went to collect Severus.

Lucius's normally immaculate room was a disaster and so was Lucius. His robe was torn, his hair was messed-up and looked like someone had colored it with markers, and his pale skin had a faint pinkish tinge to it. His bed was no longer made, with the mattress being against a wall, his bookshelves were empty and one was toppled over, his desk had been drawn on, and his walls were now sporting Dark Marks all over them. Crabbe and Goyle resembled Lucius, expect their hair, being a darker color, didn't look like anyone had drawn on them.

Severus was sitting on top of Lucius's dresser (missing a few drawers) with a coloring book on his lap and a few half-eaten crayons scattered around him.

"Hi, Father! Me had fun!" Severus greeted him.

"Well," Voldemort murmured, "it looks like you three boys had a party in here."

Lucius pointed at Severus. "He did it, my Lord."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow and titled his head. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice dangerous.

Lucius gulped. "I mean, you're right, we had a party. Sorry about that. Severus was perfect. Very well behaved, sir."

"I thought so," Voldemort said, pleased, as he picked his son up.

"Bye, Lucy! Bye, Crabbie! Bye, Goylie!" Severus said. "Me come again! Me like you!"

Voldemort stared at them. "Don't you three have something to say to my son?!"

They gulped. "Bye!" they mumbled.

"One at a time," Voldemort hissed, "and say it like you mean it!"

Crabbe shuffled forward. "Bye, Sevvie!" he said, patting Severus on the head clumsily.

Goyle was next. "Bye, Sev," he said, patting Severus on the back.

Lucius bowed. "Good-bye, Severus."

Voldemort nodded his head and turned around. Voldemort wasn't sure, but he thought he heard groans behind him as he disapparated with his precious bundle. Upon entering Voldemort's mansion again, Voldemort took Severus directly to the play room. Severus slipped down and investigated the toys. He tied a jump rope around his waist and tucked all the dolls into it as he went to the other toys.

"Nice cauldron," Severus murmured, stroking the cauldron like it was an animal, "sweet cauldron!"

Then Severus jumped in and curled up inside of it, falling asleep with the most hideous looking doll firmly in his grasp.

Voldemort yawned and laid on the floor. It had been a long day! First potty training and then the kitchen mess and then the play room. Voldemort firmly locked the door with his wand. Maybe, eventually, he would get the hang of raising a half-dementor. He hoped. With that thought, Voldemort fell asleep, glad none of his minions could see their master falling asleep on the floor of a child's play room.

Chapter 5: Meetings