Like Father Like Son

Chapter rated R for language.

Sameth woke up early on the day he would begin classes. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see- nothing. Everything was still dark. That was odd. Normally, he'd wake up to a stream of sunlight coming in through the window.

Sameth sat up. Oh, right. He was in the Slytherin dorms. He had been loathe to give up his rooms, but both Severus and Dumbledore had thought it best if he became an integral part of the Slytherin house, and, unfortunately, that meant staying in the dorms.

With Malfoy. Goyle. Zabini. Crabbe.

Lucky for him, they had all been very receptive the night before, accepting his Durmstrang excuses, believing his stories about how he had grown up ignorant of his father's loyalties to the Dark Lord. Of course, ever the pureblood, Sameth was eager to join and prove his worth to the Death Eaters. This had met with immediate approval. Today, the countdown of days until the beginning initiation was a full week.

He had also been grilled on the curses he could do. Malfoy was bragging about his successful use of the Unforgivables on over twelve muggles that summer. He told them that he had used Imperious on a human, but that was about it, although he could kill small animals (Sam didn't tell them exactly how small) with the other two.

Sameth got out of his bed, missing the brightness and familiarity of his own rooms. It was too cold here, but Sam couldn't shiver. That had been in one of the lessons by Severus. A true Slytherin never got cold. They enjoyed it, remaining distant from the heat. A false Slytherin could be pointed out immediately because of this trait.

Sameth also missed Adai, who had remained with him in his rooms before. The owl was extremely comforting, but now was in the Owlry, along with the school owls, and probably Hedwig, too.

Sameth got dressed, missing the comforting Gryffindor colours. Now, he had the dark Slytherin green to wear, and he was ashamed. To be in Slytherin, to be a Snape.

Normally he accepted himself for it, but today, waking up in the cold, lone dungeons, he felt homesick for himself. Harry Potter was dead, along with fame and glory, and Ron and Hermione, but in his stead was Sameth, who had a family, knew where he belonged.

Sameth got ready for his first real day of classes. His schedule had been fixed, and already given to him. He had the majority of his classes with Malfoy, who had turned out to be rather intelligent, contrary to popular belief. Sam was in advanced classes, and even helping tutor some younger Slytherins in Potions in his free periods. Then, after classes there were extra potions with his father, alternating with lessons with Remus.

After getting dressed in tan trousers and a green sweater under his robes, Sameth followed the labyrinth passages up to the Great Hall, where breakfast was being served.

Upon entering the magnificent room filled with half awake, half dreaming students, Sameth just nearly caught himself from walking over to the Gryffindor table. Malfoy saw him, luckily enough (which was an odd feeling, seeing Malfoy should never be a lucky thing) and grabbed his arm.

"Slytherin Table is over here.." he gestured. "You don't want to be hanging around with the mudblood Gryffies, do you?"

"Of course not!" Sameth did his best to sound like the rich, spoiled pureblood he was supposed to be. "Are you insinuating that there are any doubts about where my loyalties lie, Malfoy?" This part was in a low murmur that had the tone of a threat. It was enough to make Draco Malfoy, known as the commander of all comments nasty and cold, stand up a little straighter. There was something in this Snape, after all.

"Not at all," Draco said with a hint of a smirk, "you seem to be a bright one, Snape. Wouldn't want you to get sucked in by that pool of filth."

"Thanks. I'll take your advice," and Sameth held out his hand, remembering a very similar conversation that had taken place nearly five years ago, with a very different outcome.

Malfoy took his hand, the smirk fading. The two sixth years went silently back to the Slytherins.

Their rather confrontational conversation had caused some interest in the "pool of filth."

"Whatd'ya think that was about?" Ron articulated through a mouthful of toast and pumpkin juice.

"It's like they were testing each other," Hermione had even managed to put down the paper to watch the two Slytherins.

"Well, who won?" Ginny, tagging along to breakfast with the two, interjected. Up until now her eyes had been darting around the Hall, remaining just a touch longer on the green and silver tables. It wouldn't have been noticeable unless you were looking for it.

"I think it was a tie." Dean Thomas remarked rather offhandedly.

Ginny turned to him and smiled. They were dating after all, and she had a feeling that he was rather upset at not being able to see her all summer. Her mother was horribly old-fashioned, and not thought it proper for her to go spend a week with him.

Ron scowled at his sisters smile, but didn't say anything, because he had a feeling Hermione would shoot arrows with her eyes, instead of the current daggers.

Back at the Slytherin table, another interesting conversation was taking place. The Bloody Baron had showed up at the far end of the table, away from where Draco, Sameth, and Blaise had sat down. His silver, bloody complexion stood out against the early morning sunlight streaming through the ceiling.

"Who's that?" Sameth asked, knowing that it would sound odd if he didn't.

"The Bloody Baron, Slytherin's house ghost." Blaise Zabini answered. "And if you're going to ask how he got covered in blood, save it. No one knows."

Sameth nodded. He was given another copy of his schedule by Draco, who was pompously acting the part of Prefact. It would have been eerily like Percy had been those years ago, but Sameth thought that no matter how much of a git Percy was being now, he would never have threatened to poison a first year with an excess amount of Bubotuber pus, the way Draco was doing now.

Draco returned to where Sam and Blaise were sitting. He truly disliked being a prefect, but his father wanted him to become Head Boy, be the perfect son.

He had barely managed to sit down when the table was joined by Pansy Parkinson, Sally-Anne Perks, and Millicent Bulstrode.

Sameth remembered what his father had told him about Pansy and Malfoy's impending marriage. He almost felt sorry for Draco, although it wasn't as bad as it could be. Pansy was looking less like a pug dog as she grew older.

She was sitting by Draco, and across from Sameth. Giving the newest Slytherin a scrutinizing glance, she introduced herself and her companions.

Millicent soon wandered off to sit next to Crabbe and Goyle, who were apparently cousins of hers or something. Sameth blanched at the thought of any of them being anything more, feeling sorry for their future children, if there would be any.

Draco and Pansy remained civil during breakfast, Pansy simpering less than Sameth had imagined she would. They were discussing the current interest rates at Gringotts and other banking terms. Sameth wasn't really interested, so he turned his attention around the room.

The Ravenclaws were all sitting there, neat and studious. The majority of them were either reading the paper or had a book beside their plate. Sameth, for once, was glad he had not been sorted with that group. Even if the Slytherins were all Death Eaters, at least they had personality.

And, soon enough, he'd be like them, anyways.

The Hufflepuff table was next. From where he was sitting, Sam had the perfect look at Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones playing footsie under the table. At least that squashed the growing suspicion that most of the student body had that he was as straight as a circle.

He turned away after a few moments. Nothing else horribly interesting was going on at the Hufflepuff table, so he turned his attention to the Gryffindors. When he looked up at them, several of his fellow sixth years looked away. Apparently they had been watching him. Sam, who was normally observant as to when he was being observed, was rather taken aback.

He scanned the table, from the very new first years who he didn't really know or care much about, to the other end, where his friends were sitting.

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were watching him, he could tell. They were also trying to giggle. It was kind of unnerving. Were they laughing at him?

Ginny was sitting altogether too close to Dean Thomas for breakfast, and although Ron was facing away from Sam, he could just imagine the expression on his face.

Hermione's face was turned to the side, so Sameth saw her profile. She seemed to be the only thing calming Ron down, and it wasn't helping too much.

"Pathetic, aren't they?" A voice interrupted Sameth's thoughts. Draco had broken away from Pansy's conversation, leaving her talking to Sally-Anne and Blaise. He had followed Sam's gaze across the room. "Especially that family. The Weasleys."

"Are they mudbloods?" Sameth asked, the word uncomfortably twisting on his tongue. Soon it would come with ease.

"No, but almost. Didn't your father tell you about them?" Sameth shook his head no. "Pureblooded, but dirt poor and Muggle lovers. Parents had too many of the little boogers too feed, or something like that. You can tell them by that hideous red hair. Although the little girl there looks like a good fuck."

"Hmm." Every big brother instinct that Harry had ever had for Ginny was coming in full force, but he contained his feelings. "What about that one, next to the other Weasley?"

"Oh, Granger?" Sameth nodded. "She is a mudblood. Comes in here, thinking she is better than anyone else. Only mediocre at magic, but she can memorize all the books and the teachers think she's bloody brilliant. Come on."

Malfoy started walking away, towards the area of interest.

"Where?" Sameth called after him, before he got too far.

"Weasel-baiting."

Sameth walked quickly to catch up. He braced his own nerves, hoping that he could taunt and torment the Gryffindors along with Malfoy.

They arrived at the table in a matter of seconds. Malfoy started in first.

"Oh, how cute. The Weaslette has a boyfriend. Tell me, Thomas, is she any good? I wouldn't mind a ride or two."

Ron turned bright red, and Thomas comforted the visibly upset Ginny.

"Shhh. Don't worry about Malfoy, remember. He's just upset because the only one who'll come near him is Pansy."

This made a little smile crack out on Ginny's face. Sameth expected Draco to get upset at this comment, but instead he was smirking just like Ginny, in a more evil and terrifying way.

"I don't know about that, Thomas. Tell me, does your mother still whore on that corner in Muggle London? I seem to remember a few fucks from the summer. She does marvelous things with her tongue."

Dean stood up, furor in his eyes. From his reaction, Draco was apparently telling the truth.

Ron leaped up as well.

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy. Annoying ferret, tell me if you had fun this summer, being your father's little bitch? And who's this?" Ron said, jabbing Sameth in the chest. He was so close, Sam could see the perspiration on his forehead. "Who's this? Your newest fuck toy? Crabbe and Goyle stop letting you in?"

Draco just smirked wider, keeping the ice in his eyes very readable.

"No, they had a few go's with your sister and got a few diseases that need to be cleared up."

That was too much for Ron, who stood up quickly. He pulled his wand out, jabbing it at Malfoy.

Sameth, thoroughly enjoying being on the other side of the fight for a change, grabbed his wand out, to help Draco.

Dean saw this movement, and within a few seconds his wand was out, too.

Hermione had been sitting quietly for now, a disapproving look on her face, but as soon as she saw the draws, she quickly drew out her want, and stepped between the two, preventing any immediate action.

As a prefect, she knew she should stop this and take away house points, but Malfoy was a prefect too, and if she dared to take any away from Slytherin, then there would be at least three times as many taken away from her own house.

So there they all stood, Dean's wand at Sam, Sam's on Hermione, Draco's on Ron's, Hermione's on Draco, and Ron' s on Draco.

It was rather a compromising situation that they were found in a minute later. Fortunately, for the Slytherins anyways, it could have been worse.

"Sameth!" Professor Snape approached the close group.

"Yes, Father?" They had agreed it was for the best if they called each other more personal names than "Professor."

"What is going on here?" To everyone else, the ill-tempered Potion's masters voice was deadly dangerous. Like a five foot icicle dangling above your head, pining you to a wall. One wrong move, and you've got a sharp piece of frozen water coming out the top of your head.

But to Sameth, there was something else in the voice. It was a touch of humor, and a little glee. Professor Snape was actually looking forward to this! He enjoyed this needless torment, got off on the feelings of panic he inflicted. To Gryffindors, anyway.

Sameth started talking. "Father, Draco and I were walking across the Hall, when Weasley here stood up and attacked us. In self-defense, I drew my wand, and they," here he gestured to Hermione and Dean, "drew theirs as well."

He hated the whiny tone his voice carried, but he had to admit, it did sound like Malfoy when he was suckering out of something.

"Malfoy, is this true?" Snape kept his frigid voice neutral, although there was no doubt that there would be some punishment for the three Gryffindors.

"Yes, sir." Malfoy nodded, playing the part of the accosted Prefect, trying to maintain order.

"Well then, Weasley, Granger, Thomas. It seems as if you can't even make it more than ten days into a school year without getting in trouble. I had hoped when that foolish Potter was gone then there would be some peace and quiet for once."

Ron immediately began to stand up for Harry, protesting against the Professor. Hermione elbowed him and he finally shut up.

Sameth felt rather conflicted. It was almost as if his father was rubbing Harry's, his own, disappearance in the face of his old friends. He did feel rather comforted that Ron was sticking up for him, though.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, if you cannot keep your temper under control, then I'm going to have to assign a detention. For all three of you."

Dean barely concealed a groan.

"Tonight at seven in the dungeons. Now, Malfoy, Sameth, I suggest you hurry to class. I believe Professor McGonagall does get upset when her students are late."

"Yes, Father." And with that the looming bat like man was gone, swooping off into the hallway, pulling his cloak around him tightly.

Sameth thought for a bit. Severus had assigned the detention at seven, during his own personal potions lesson. How was he supposed to train to be a Death Eater if Ron and Hermione were there?

Snapping out of it, he and Malfoy made their way to the Transfiguration room.

"It must suck to have your father here at school." Malfoy made conversation.

"Yeah. But maybe he'll help against the mudbloods."

"You should have been here last year. We finally had some good direction here, and those damn Gryffindors weren't getting special privileges the way they do under Dumbledore, the old fool."

"I hope they find a new headmaster soon, one more sympathetic to the cause."

"It won't happen. Even though the Minister hates Dumbledore running the school, they'll never find a new one that they'll approve of."

"Hmm."

"You're just lucky you weren't here when Dumbledore had his Golden Boy here."

"Who?" Sameth asked, trying to keep his voice from betraying himself.

They passed into an empty corridor, Sameth pretending to not know where he was going.

"Harry Potter. If you think that the Weasley's have it bad for the Muggles, you should have seen Potter. He tried everything he could to make us look bad. Always sticking up for the weak mudbloods. If there's one person I can't stand, its Potter."

"Where did he go, anyway?"

"Father said that he just disappeared. They don't have any idea about where he went, but people have been talking that he's either hiding somewhere, away from, well, you know, or he's training."

Sam just nodded. So things were working out as they were supposed to. If you could trust Malfoy to be telling the truth, which, he supposed, you couldn't, then people really didn't know about him. It was comforting.

They reached the classroom. Slytherins had the Advanced Transfiguration class with the Ravenclaws, so Sameth really didn't know anyone. Sure, he could pick out a few faces, like Padma Patil and Michael Corner, but that was about it.

Today they would be learning about turning something from a soft material into something made of metal or stronger. It was a more complex lesson that Sameth struggled with at first. He seemed to have lost his talent for the subject, and he was getting rather demeaning looks from the perfect Ravenclaw's.

This made him work harder, to prove himself. Finally, he remembered the chemical composition of the metals he was changing, and used the Arithmancy formula to find the way to easily transfigure them.

He seemed to have picked up a knack for all the harder subjects that he had struggled with last year. However, using them together, he was incredibly gifted in all areas. He found the looks of the Ravenclaws change as he easily completed the lesson.

"Excellent job, Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall stood watching him. "A wonderful application of the vectors of numerology. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, Professor." Sameth smiled a bit, making a few of the Ravenclaw girls gasp.

Draco looked at him in a funny way after McGonagall had moved on.

"What?"

"McGonagall hates all Slytherins. Wonder why she was so nice to you?"

"I saw her shag Dumbledore and am blackmailing her," Sameth joked. Malfoy just looked disturbed.

"That's just wrong."

"You asked."

"You're sick." With that comment, Malfoy just turned back to his work.

Sameth was astounded. Had he just joked around with Malfoy? Weird.

He turned back to his lesson.

The next class was Herbology, which was with the Gryffindors. The lesson went rather well, with murderous looks being shot across the table, and a couple Gryffindors getting bits of plants flung at them behind Professor Sprout's back.

Then lunch, during which Blaise, Draco and Sameth returned to the common room, discussing at great length what career they hoped Voldemort would pick for them. Draco wanted to be a Slayer, an assassin for the Dark Lord, while Blaise favored the more graceful position of spy. He did have a talent with robbing while being unnoticed, which helped when they needed to brew a potion on the sly.

Sameth confessed to his desire to work with Potions, and the others agreed that it would be good for him, being Severus's son.

Soon enough, though, it was time to leave the secrecy and darkness of the common room and go to the dungeons for Potions.

It would be a double Potions with Gryffindors. Sameth couldn't wait to be on the other side of his father's wrath.

He took a seat next to Malfoy in the dungeons, earning himself a bad look from Pansy, but shrugging it off. He also received a much more negative reaction than anticipated from the Gryffindors, who had probably all witnessed or been told about the fight this morning.

Snape swept into the room just as the class started. He looked around the room disdainfully.

"I see very little talent in brewing potions. I do not know how the majority of you simpering idiots made it into this advanced Potions class, but let me assure each and every one of you," looking at the Gryffindors while saying this, "that if you do not perform satisfactorily in this class, you will fail and be kicked out."

Hermione's face seemed to grow white, and she sat up a little straighter. Dean, also in the class, shrank back a bit. At least Ron hadn't had the grades to be in the class, or that would have been suicide.

"Now," Snape began instructing, "today we will be working on a Cross-Species potion. Similar to the Polyjuice which we will be making later, this potion works with an animal hair. However, unlike becoming an Animagus, you do not remain in the body of the animal for any more than three minutes. Find the potion in your book, and begin. We will be working on this potion for the next three days, so at the end of class simply leave your cauldron simmering, and we will pick it up from there tomorrow. Do not leave the cauldron on any heat above 120 degrees or you will be severely injured when you test the potion on Wednesday. Well? Begin!"

The disgruntled Professor then sat at his desk, and watched the terrified students begin. This was by far the most complex potion the majority of them had ever brewed, with the exceptions of Malfoy and Sameth.

The class went on for about fifteen minutes, until Snape started stalking the rows of students, critiquing the potions that were just becoming assembled.

"Pathetic, Thomas. If you were to keep making the potion as it is, even correctly following the instructions perfectly, you would already have messed it up. If you were to drink it, you would surely die. Start again."

Dean, fearfully nodded. This was becoming dangerous, and he was worried.

Hermione was working away diligently. She was more aware of this potion than the others. Fred and George had even used a version of it in their infamous Canary Creams.

Professor Snape saw this, and merely nodded at her, a sign of great approval. If there was a topic you could do well in by memorizing all the text you could on a subject, it would be Potions. However, Hermione lacked the thing that a true brewer needed, and that was the connection with the subject.

Sameth had it, which was why, in a week, he would most likely be a new apprentice to Severus himself, training him for Voldemort.

Sameth's potion was perfect, as expected. He could be trusted to make something like this, it was simple for him. Tonight, during their private lessons, though, Severus would come up with something a touch more difficult.

Snape had not forgotten about the detentions he had given to the Gryffindors. In one way, it was working out perfectly. He would have Sameth down in the dungeons with him, probably brewing an immensely difficult potion, and most likely a poison. It would make the Gryffindors fear him, and it would be a tool he could use later.

Sameth hadn't let his emotion towards his friends stop him from helping Malfoy this morning, and that was good. Severus was proud of his son's ability to fully get into the role he now played.

The lesson continued, on as such, and it was when Severus was gently slipping advice to Blaise Zabini for his potion that the explosion happened.

The room seemed to expand and contract within a matter of nanoseconds.

Severus felt stretched out as he made his way to the front of the room, seemingly the epicenter of the incident.

He found Dean Thomas knocked unconscious and Hermione Granger babbling incoherently. He sent both of them up to the Infirmary while he checked the potion. Malfoy looked a tad smug, and he looked for signs of tampering.

Sure enough, there it was. A small ball of clover leaves tied together at the bottom of the potion. The reaction would have been enough to cause the mishap, and perhaps could have robbed Granger of ability to speak.

He looked knowingly at Sameth, and was met by a rather sick look. Yes, it would be hard for Sameth to hurt a friend of his, but with Malfoy there, there would have been nothing he could have done.

It was a step in the right direction. Maybe now he could kill that damn cat.

Madame Pomfrey closely inspected both patients. She shut Hermione up with a sleeping potion, hoping that she would have regained her senses when she woke up. Also, Dean was easy to cure, just needing a simple "Enervate". She kept in the Hospital wing for inspection, however.

Ron and Ginny showed up to see their two friends, Dean telling them what had happened.

"Snape threw something into my potion. The next thing I knew, I woke up here."

"But why would Professor Snape purposely injure students?" Ginny questioned.

"Not Professor Snape, his son."

"That bastard! They've taken Harry away, and in his place we get another Malfoy." Ron put in his two cents worth.

"We've got to get revenge, somehow."

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Sameth found himself the center of attention. Everyone thought him a hero, after all, it was his first day of classes and he'd already managed to take out two Gryffindors. The way things were going, they'd manage to win the House Cup this year.

Speaking of Cups, Sam was asking around about Quidditch. Just because he couldn't play on the Gryffindor team didn't mean that he couldn't play at all. Unluckily for him, however, Malfoy was team captain, and Seeker. He didn't have an icicles chance in hell at his favored position.

The other positions open were Keeper and Chaser. In some old practices, he'd played Keeper once or twice, and while he wasn't exactly an Oliver Wood at it, he was pretty good. Tryouts were on Thursday night, and so Sam figured he'd go down and give it a shot.

His new broom was superb. It was a Spanish racing broom, called the "Ignition 250". It's silver coated handle was magnificent at turning and speed. Even if the rest of the school were riding angry dragons, he would still out last them to the finish line. Hell, he'd be there miles before they were.

It was also the broom of someone very rich and powerful. In fact, most of the market wasn't even allowed to have them yet. It had taken a force of many galleons to persuade the manufacturer to sell him one. But, it would be worth it for his Quidditch career.

Sameth turned his mind off Quidditch, to more pressing school problems.

Sameth did his homework, biding his time until he met with his father. Around six-forty five, he headed down to the Potions lab, where he would work with his father. Then, tomorrow night, he would meet with Remus in the Room of Requirement.

He arrived early, and his father asked him kindly how his day went. Severus asked him if he thought he would be ready for next week, and was pleased with an affirmative answer.

He wasn't really looking forward to his son's initiation at all, remembering the pain he was forced to suffer. Hopefully, though, if Sameth was chosen for Potions, then Severus himself would be his tutor and things would be much more pleasant on the both of them.

Then, around seven, the three Gryffindors entered the dungeons. Receiving matching hate-glares edged with curiosity from all of them, Sameth just nodded.

Severus stood up from his desk where he had been sitting.

"You three will be responsible for scraping the bottoms of these cauldron's," Snape said, gesturing to a pile of at least fifty cauldrons, the majority of which were covered in a foul smelling liquid. "But there is to be no magic, so hand over your wands."

The Gryffindors regretfully parted with their wands, and began scrubbing the cauldron bottoms, cringing at the smell, and sight of what was inside.

Sameth sent his father a questioning look.

"Third years were working with dead squid tentacles and maggots." Severus said with a hint of a smirk, very much like Sameth's own.

"Now, Sameth," Snape said loudly enough so that the Gryffindors could hear, "you will be making an Infusion of Belladonna mixed with tobacco leaves from India. Tell me what the reaction will be to any that drink it."

"I believe it will form a deadly potion that looks very similar to Veritaserum, used by Wizards of the past to kill witnesses to crimes."

"Excellent. Have you been studying the material I gave you?" This was a hidden reference to the dozens of books assigned to Sameth to study for his upcoming initiation.

"Of course, Father."

"Begin work on the potion. When it is finished, bottle it and bring a sample to me. You may have the rest for whatever purpose you wish."

The three Gryffindors were starting to get nervous. Did Professor Snape just give a sixth year permission to brew not only a deadly potion, but to keep some of it for himself?

"Yes, Father."

The rest of the night was spent working on the potion. Hermione was sneaking glances at him, and she had to admit, he had the poise and graceful fingers of a true brewer. She had heard of the potion before, while reading "Great Wizarding Trials of the 1200's". It was supposedly near impossible to make, yet a sixth year student was brewing it perfectly.

She was very nervous. He must be very dangerous to be able to do something like this, and this was the first year in a long time that Hogwarts had not had Harry Potter here to protect it.

Well, another chapter! Sorry for taking so long to update. School and track caught up with me quickly.

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