Author's Note: Voldemort has me locked in his dungeons to explain the next few chapters to me. He wants them to get serious. He is a Dark Lord, after all, and must be taken seriously. He is, at the moment, lamenting what Dumbledore did to his ickle sonnykins and is not in the dungeon to torture me with more information. But I have his diary, the one on how to raise Half-Dementors, and it is from it's pages that the information for the next chapters will come from. They may, actually, be some serious parts to them, so be warned. Oh, and try to rescue me. The chains chaff my wrists as I type.
A Son for the Dark Lord
by: Serenthia
Chapter 6: Camping
Voldemort, regarding his awesome and virile physique in the mirror that hung on his bathroom door, sighed happily as he covered his body.
"Son?" Voldemort questioned, tearing his eyes off his glorious face.
Those eyes! They never failed to entrance their owner with their red sinister quality and their catlike pupils. Even his nose, being flat and slit-like, was a creation glorious to behold. They were testaments to his many transformations. He was no longer human but had become something more, something better, something glorious. He, Voldemort, was a magnificent specimen of manhood. Unlike that old, skinny, wrinkled, blue-eyed freak, Dumbledore. What did people see in that batty old piece of rat vomit, anyway?
Voldemort sniffed in irritation. He should be enjoying himself by now, ruling the world, instead of trying to conquer it. What pains he had to go through. It was enough to make him weep. But he would not. He didn't weep. It was all Dumbledore's fault.
Glancing over, Voldemort saw his wee little son.
Severus was curled up in a corner of the bathroom, completely covered in a white bathrobe, with a hood, and seemed to have fallen asleep. White was not the boy's color. Voldemort would have to change the bathrobe to a nice, dark, sinister black.
"Son?" Voldemort called again, placing a white, spidery fingered hand on his own chest. How firm it was!
Severus looked up and pushed the hood back. His hair, despite all of Voldemort's efforts, was still greasy and oily.
"Where Dark Mark?" Severus asked, looking around the room, his little face screwed up in concentration.
"Your cat is in the playroom," Voldemort informed him.
Severus yawned and got up, trotted to the door, and then opened it. He looked at Voldemort with a smirk.
"Me saw you naked!" he declared, and then ran off down the hall.
Voldemort screamed. No one, that was still alive, had seen him naked! The people at the orphanage that had seen him naked as a baby were now dead, the stupid old nurse at Hogwarts that had seen him once naked was dead, all killed, painfully, by Voldemort. His body was too glorious for mortal eyes to behold! He was MAN.
Voldemort took a deep cleansing breath, Severus wasn't human, fully, so it was okay. Besides, he doubted Severus knew what he saw. The boy only seemed to be half-there. And, possibly, it would spur Severus on to becoming what Voldemort was. After all, the boy would understand that he was a pathetic specimen of a man compared to Voldemort.
Striding, with purpose and intent, Voldemort went to Severus's playroom to see the boy cuddling his red cat and reading a book by the slime-covered wall. The boy had shed his bathrobe along the way.
"Me go!" Severus said, nodding happily, and lifting his book up for Voldemort to see.
The cat hissed at Voldemort, and went to jump up on the bookcase, flicking its tail angrily as it surveyed Voldemort. Mark Russell wasn't stupid enough to attack Voldemort, though Voldemort could tell he wanted to. Voldemort sneered at the hapless creature and then looked at the book.
"Camping Without Magic," Voldemort read and then froze. He hated camping! It was almost as bad as listening to one of Dumbledore's boring, inane speeches about goodwill, what was right and what was wrong, and other mindless drivel. He was pretty sure Dumbledore had a book entitled: One Hundred and One Idiotic Speeches to Use to Turn Your Students Into Mindless Slaves So They Won't Try to Take Over the World.
"No!" Voldemort shouted.
Severus lowered the book, looked at it, looked up at Voldemort, looked at the book, looked up at Voldemort, looked at the book, and then looked up at Voldemort, his little chin quivering. "Please, Father?"
Voldemort melted. "Okay," he said. Putty again. What was with that one word: Father? Did it have some sort of magic woven into it that made Voldemort turn to mush?
"We bring Lucy too!" Severus decided as he stood up. He looked down at himself. "Me is naked!"
Voldemort threw him the bathrobe that he had collected from the hallway. Severus giggled and put it on, and Voldemort tied the robe belt into a knot so it wouldn't open.
"Me saw you naked!" Severus chanted. "Me saw you naked!"
"Yes," Voldemort said, straightening up. "I hope my virile body didn't cause you to be disgusted with your own pathetic little body."
Severus extended his left arm. "Me is Deaf Eater!"
Voldemort sighed. Obviously Severus was too scarred by what he had seen, and too ashamed with his own inadequacies, to be able to answer the question. "Don't worry, my little one, your body will mature and then, maybe, you will be as glorious as me. It will take time," he said, looking into the future with his wonderful red eyes, "and it will be painful but... it will be worth it," he said, looking down at his spidery fingers.
His own glory was sometimes too much for Voldemort to behold and he felt like swooning.
"Camping! Camping!" Severus sang, drawing Voldemort out of his self-reflection. "Lucy! Lucy!"
"Yes, let's go collect Lucy, I mean, Lucius," Voldemort said as he conjured up a robe for Severus and helped him put it on.
"Me get Dark Mark first!" Severus said, and climbed up the bookcase to get his cat. He grabbed the creature and then jumped down.
Half-Dementors were wiry little things. Severus had landed on his feet.
"Come!" Voldemort said imperiously as he touched Severus's shoulder.
Lucius was quite pleased to go.
"Where are your two henchmen?" Voldemort asked Lucius as they left the store, arms loaded with camping supplies that Caldius was paying for. Voldemort was disguised, once again, as an old man. His supply of Polyjuice Potion was in a canteen that hung from his waist.
"Crabbe is at a family reunion and Goyle is baby-sitting his little sister," Lucius reported dutifully, his eyes flickering over to Dark Mark, unmoving in Severus's arms. "Is he... alive?"
"Yes," Voldemort said shortly. "Just depressed. You know how cats are."
Lucius gave Voldemort a worried little smile, afraid that he would be next, no doubt, and then turned to Severus.
"Where are we camping, Severus?"
Severus lifted his book up, the only other thing besides Dark Mark he was carrying. His poor wee arms weren't meant to hold much.
"By pond! We swim! We roast mallows!" Severus sang.
Ah, yes. Normal camping activities, according to the horrid little book. Voldemort was going to have to kill the author.
Blowing out his breath and wondering how Dark Lords were supposed to behave on camping trips, Voldemort touched Severus's shoulder, while Lucius touched Voldemort's shoulder with a finger (the boy knew better than to get his no-good hands on his magnificent and godly Dark Lord) and apparated to a camping area.
Several families were already there. Lucius hissed.
"The Weasley's!" he breathed out. "It's Arthur!"
Voldemort had no time for petty feuds between schoolboys, especially not when his son needed to be entertained, and boldly walked to the Weasleys, dumping his equipment before them. All five of them were there. Patricia and Robert, the parents, and their three children, Bilius, Arthur, and Maribel.
Voldemort magicked his tent together and Lucius quickly crawled into it, to get away from Arthur.
"Hello," Voldemort said, using his best 'I'm an old feeble man so have pity on me' voice.
"Oh!" Patricia Weasley said, the mother of Arthur, as she looked down at Severus.
"Is this your grandson?" she asked.
Voldemort patted Severus on the head. "Yes. His parents died a long time ago. I'm his only living relative."
"Kiss Dark..." Voldemort had a hand over his son's mouth before he could finish the cat's name. Oops! He had forgotten about the cat's name. Severus bit Voldemort, hard. Reflexively taking his hand away, Voldemort shook his hand while Severus finished his sentence.
"Kiss Dark Mark!" Severus shouted happily, and everyone froze.
"Dark Mark?" Robert Weasley said, staring at Voldemort in horror.
Voldemort burst into tears. "My son! His wife! They were killed! The Dark Mark over their house! The boy... he heard me.. muttering... didn't understand... liked name... daily reminder... tragedy."
Patricia and Maribel, being the typical idea of all things women, burst into sympathetic tears. Patricia hugged Voldemort. The nerve of her, touching his almost perfected body! Well, he was just using a borrowed body right now. But still, the idea disgusted Voldemort. Maribel gathered Severus in her arms and hugged him tightly, squeezing him and his cat in her exuberant embrace.
"You poor baby!" she screamed. "Oh! You poor darling!"
That did it. Maribel refused to be parted from Severus, despite Voldemort tugging on him and dropping hints that Severus had a very contagious disease.
"He needs a mommy!" she shouted, hugging Severus to her and turning her back on Voldemort.
Voldemort's hand nearly slipped to his wand and his mouth ached to form the words: Avada Kedavra, but, as usual, Voldemort's wonderful and uncommon common sense came into place and he did nothing. He was the epitome of chivalry. Letting a common woman touch his son without killing her. Voldemort was surprised at his own wonderful nature and sniffed in appreciation. He was a great man.
A magical fire was lit by Patricia and they roasted marshmallows by the light of it. Voldemort, getting more annoyed by the second, looked over at his son.
Severus had a marshmallow in his hand and was chewing on it, his face twisted in absolute disgust.
"He doesn't seem to like the marshmallows," Patricia said.
Maribel giggled. "He's so cute!"
Severus dropped the marshmallow and winced.
Stories began to be told and laughter rang out. Severus winced, and then started to twitch at the sound. In amazement, Voldemort watched as Severus turned around, dropping Dark Mark, and planted a kiss on Maribel's mouth.
Patricia shrieked with laughter. Severus clamored down and went after her next. Robert then laughed and Severus ran to him, kissing him on his lips. Soon Severus was running back and forth to everyone but Voldemort, kissing them on their lips while they laughed.
Voldemort's eyes were huge. Severus was trying to give them the Dementor's Kiss! But it wasn't working. Severus suddenly seemed to realize this, standing in the middle of the circle of these laughing people, and his face screwed up and he started to howl.
"ME IS BROKEN!" he screamed, his whole body shaking. "ME IS BROKEN!"
He ran to Voldemort, his little arms outstretched, and hid in Voldemort's cloak, screaming about being broken. Voldemort grabbed Dark Mark and apparated back to his mansion. Lucius could apparate on his own and didn't need help.
Severus was trembling and spitting. Voldemort ran a nice icy cold bath and dumped Severus into it, while putting him under the Cruciatus Curse at the same time. Severus relaxed into his bath and quit shaking.
"Me is broken," he said, his little voice quavering, while Voldemort rubbed his back.
"No," Voldemort said, "you just can't give people the Dementor's Kiss."
Severus looked up at Voldemort, his cold black eyes filled with tears. "They laugh. Me hate laughing. They.... they.... " he sniffed and climbed to his feet, hugging Voldemort and getting Voldemort soaking wet, "they... scare me."
Those evil creatures! Scaring his baby boy! They would all suffer! Death? Torture?
"Daddy gives kiss to laughing people," Severus said softly. "Me can't. Me is broken," he sniffed again and held onto Voldemort tighter.
So, Severus had seen his daddy give people the Dementor's Kiss. That was interesting. Had Drisella approved of that?
"Don't worry, Severus. There are other ways to make people stop laughing without giving them the Dementor's Kiss," Voldemort informed him.
"How you make people quit laughing, and smiling, and being happy?" Severus asked, leaning back to stare up at Voldemort's face. His little one was very serious. "Me hate happy!"
Voldemort smiled evilly. "Being nasty always works. Being mean, sarcastic, and cruel works too. I'll teach you the fine art of making people miserable with words tomorrow. Tonight, you need to sleep."
Next Chapter: Chapter 7: Playground Ethics
(Where he learns to insult people and meets Sirius Black and James Potter. And they find out what trouble Lucius has gotten into while they were away.)
