Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.
Wayward Son
Chapter 2:
The path was nearly gone, having not been used in such a long time. Dead tree branches over hung the path, snagging who ever would walk by as strange plants had started to over take the original path. Nearly Seventeen year's of no use of a path that was hardly used in the first place will do that. However, two strangers were walking on the path, shooting a green light here and there every now and again as some animal would fall out of a tree, dead. The two character's weren't happy individuals. Mostly unhappy with the other, blaming them for the predicament they were in with the law and their Master. Also having to live with the other while on the run wasn't helping their fondness towards one another.
Draco Malfoy's normal pristine robes were frayed and dirty, looking worse off than the family he used to tease for such clothing. His normally white-blond hair was matted with twigs sticking out here and there from laying in the mud and was dirty enough to be considered almost a brunette type color. He had knots in his back that normally would have been rubbed out by a servant of his choosing, but having one's house and fortune being turned over to a corrupt Ministry, which most of said money got the corrupt bureaucrats their jobs in the first place was almost a poetic justice. His hygiene didn't improve his mood, but made him snotty and even more unbearable to be around than he already was.
Young Malfoy was seriously regretting his choice in allegiance. Not that he had any love for 'mudbloods,' but the other side seemed less demanding, less work. His father had always raised him to believe that a Malfoy never followed or groveled. However, all he seemed to do to his 'Master' was just that, grovel and follow. His thoughts might be considered mutinous, but the Dark Lord never had had a chance to peer into the youths' mind since the thoughts began. The Dark Lord now had over three hundred followers of various races. One man couldn't check every individual's mind, and why would he check the mind of someone who led to the fall of the Dark's greatest enemy, which subsequently led to over two hundred of the new recruits.
Severus Snape was even nastier than his counter-part next to him. His normally greasy hair was now practically dripping with grease, often getting in the man's eyes. His already hooked nose was bruised, swollen, and slightly bloody from a nasty scrape with a couple of Aurors that happened upon them. He was not gentle with the obviously newly graduated enforcers as one got a lucky shot in and bloodied the supposed 'Half-Blood Prince.' Being a supreme dueler and maker of his own spells helped as he sent more advanced and highly more painful curses than his childhood potions book had carried. He was mostly sour at his young companion for his predicament. Also the boy's dead mother had some blame. If he wasn't so prideful, he wouldn't have made an Unbreakable Vow, sealing his fate to a lifetime time on the run. Or he hoped. Even while running, he still held hope that Potter would finish the Dark Lord... and him as well. The boy would have to earn it though. He would not go down quietly for no one, especially a Potter. Especially a Potter that was as dense as him, not learning valuable skills he had tried to press upon him.
Severus however, wasn't as loyal to the light as he was now, even though he was their supposed spy for years. He did many things he regretted. Namely, letting his loyalty waiver nearly two years ago. He thought himself nearly invincible to the crude ways people used to hype themselves up: such as sport rallies and war rallies. He was wrong. The Dark Lord was still as charismatic as he used to be nearly twenty years ago when he had Snape commit to the Dark Mark. He will regret that he opened the Potter's boy mind for the Dark Lord, but not the fact of who died. He had killed three of the boys who tormented him when he was younger, having killed 'Wormtail' when he got back from killing the man he would never have thought to beg for his life, subsequently the man he killed.
It was his worst memory to this date. The main reason why he dreaded the Dark Lord's rallies now. Like the one he was going to now. For the rallies meant the whole of the Dark Lord's army which consisted of Dementors. No matter how he tried, he would never be able to block their effects. In fact only one... thing he knew could. The Dark Lord himself. Severus figured it was because the Dark Lord had no shame nor conscience.
Severus' thought's halted as they found the cave they were supposed to be at. He could smell the congregation of werewolves around the entrance. Working closely with Greyback years ago will always drive their odor into a man's senses. The mangy beasts thought themselves above washing, especially since they usually never had an available shower handy just helped with their cause. Greyback was the worst though, and actually bathing in the blood of his victims, whether in wolf form or not. Snape would shiver no matter how hard he tried not to when he would hear Greyback reminisce about his victims blood, recently Bill Weasley, who Greyback still wanted to finish off and would visible drool over the memory.
Snape and Malfoy walked passed the werewolves milling about the entrance. Malfoy thought it amusing that the beasts thought themselves above wizard's, never washing. It was Malfoy's arrogant beliefs that blinded him from sympathizing with the people having lived a life that he had only live for a few weeks.
Deeper into the cave, they both could feel the coldness of the Dementor's. They quickly found a group of Death Eaters to huddle up with for warmth. Snape just sneered under his mask as the newly inducted Death Eaters relished being on the winning side. The only thought comforting to Snape was the thought of them losing what they ate when they finish their inducting missions. He seen it happen to every Death Eater since his very own induction when he himself fell to the ferocity.
After nearly a half hour the Dark Lord made his appearance. Snape quickly made his way to the Inner Circle portion grouped up front to take his place kneeling at the feet of a half blood who claimed pure blood supremacy.
"My faithful," he purred, "tonight we gather much like we did weeks ago for the celebration of the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Here, everyone cheered and the Dementors rattled the way they do as Snape flinched just a little at the memory of an old man begging for his life.
"My ranks have swelled, and you have gained new comrades. Those who joined me after my Re-birthing can expect a more... privileged status. Come, join me up front," Voldemort commanded as twenty or so Death Eaters rushed up to their Lord, whether from fear or being greedy, Snape didn't know, but expected a bit of a mixture.
Snape watched as they rolled up their left sleeves as Voldemort made red lines on top, bottom, left, and right of the Mark. "Behold!" Voldemort shouted, "The lieutenants of the Death Eaters!" He finished to the masses as every one threw up green or silver sparks and giving whistles of appreciation. Snape noticed a few people down Fenrir Greyback snarl at the way of wizards no doubt.
The twenty odd Death Eaters now formed two lines similar to the one line of the Inner Circle. Snape couldn't tell who they were underneath their masks, and the way the Dark Lord operated, probably never would.
"Yes, congratulations, my faithful," spoke the Dark Lord softly and yet carrying easily throughout the cave, "you will receive much more than a simple promotion, because the Dark Lord always repays your loyalty," Snape watched as the masses believe a cleverly spun lie. Most likely they would be the one's going to prison before any other's with the mission's Voldemort had planned.
"We are not gathered just for the sake of promoting those of worthy caliber," the Dark Lord said as he began walking through the ranks of Death Eaters and Werewolves. Snape thought it amusing that werewolves thought themselves superior to wizard's, and yet, weren't even granted rank of Death Eater, save for Greyback. Snape watched as Voldemort continued his speech, peering into the minds of his newest recruits for the briefest of moments, catching a glimpse of fear or the greed of those already wealthy. Snape didn't think he had to really listen to the Dark Lord. Anything important for those of the Inner Circle were said in private meetings with the Dark Lord. Nothing of importance would be said here to Snape, especially since he had no one to report to after this meeting.
Snape snapped out of his thoughts as the rally dispersed. Smartly, he looked around and notice none of the Inner Circle members leaving, thus suggesting a private meeting.
"Severus, how do you think the rally went?" The Dark Lord asked.
"Smashingly. Inspiring for the young ones who have recently joined, Master," Snape lied.
"I don't know how he'd know that, he wasn't even paying attention!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked.
"Now, now Bella, we're not little children running around school to taddle on each other," Snape chided eliciting a chuckle from the Dark Lord. Snape didn't know what was scarier on that face: amusement or fury.
"Why are you even here! You have lost all purpose now Dumbledore's gone and you're not part of the Order anymore!"
"Bella, do not talk to Severus like that again. He has accomplished something that not even I could. He will always have a place in this Circle!" Voldemort hissed. Lestrange flinched at being reprimanded. Snape didn't know what to think, not wanting to be a part of the organization anymore, but now having sanctuary with the current most powerful wizard.
"I have news for you all," the Dark Lord shifted subjects as his snake, Nagini, slithered out of hiding, "Minister Scrimgeour is dead."
"How Master?" Bella asked with a little too much enthusiasm trying to make up for her earlier blunder.
"You know I don't reveal the names of my followers, especially the ones who succeed in their designated missions," Voldemort lightly scolded, "but in this case, I'll let you know: it was Nagini here. A mere snake accomplished what you all could not!" Voldemort exclaimed as he jumped from his leisurely position of his stone throne and began pacing the line of his most powerful Death Eaters.
"I know five of you have had the task of trying to complete this simple task-"
"But Master-" Lestrange interrupted the Dark Lord, which was a painful mistake as he didn't even need to say the word Crucio to have Lestrange writhing on the ground, screaming.
"But nothing!" Voldemort said in a deadly hiss. "I know it was an easy task if something as simple as a snake could sneak into the Ministry, dispose of the intended target, and get out unnoticed. I happen to know that, now, as we talk, the Minister's body still hasn't been discovered," Voldemort said as he continued to pace the ranks of the Death Eaters. He, however, forgot to inform them that part of his soul was invested in his snake, which, at times he could take control, even more so than possessing them.
Lestrange was now recovering from her torture when the Dark Lord threw another one that hit her again. Over her screaming, the Dark Lord told her, and everyone else in a subtle way, "Bella, you disappoint me. I break you out of Azkaban, and you do nothing for me. You constantly fail me in every way possible. Should I have left you there instead?" He said this as he eyed all the other Azkaban escapees.
He finally lifted the curse as Lestrange wept from the pain and from the harsh words of Voldemort. Voldemort strolled back to his throne as nothing happened. He slumped in his chair as he casually threw a leg over one of the arms. All the while, his hood never wavering from his head as only his eyes shone in the poor light. Snape knew it was an act, one to see which of any of his followers would be lulled into the false security Voldemort offered. None fell for the ploy he had thrown their way since they first became part of the Inner Circle.
Voldemort cocked an amused smile none could see, "You may take your leave," as the Death Eaters bowed one last time as the carefully made their exit. "Fenrir, could you stayed behind?" Voldemort asked as if Fenrir had an option.
"Yes, my Lord," Fenrir gulped, not knowing whether he would be praised or more likely tortured and never seen again.
AN: And there you guys have it. There are nine more chapters I havewritten with a few more left after that.I will try to update once a week (if I remember), so no one gets pissy for the long wait. So if you enjoyed the story so far (or not) let me know, see if I can't help you out a little. But for now, I'm going to start something new here, something I like to call Get to Know the Author! This way, you guys will know what I like (and don't like) so you know if this story is going to be your Cup o' Tea. The first few chapters are going to bemy pet peeves.
Pet Peeves: Polls.
I hate polls (who do you guys want together, what super powers do you want them to have, etc.). Anyone who sees apoll at the end of a chapter should quit reading the story because those stories are rarely finished, or if they are, they are lacking from the first part of the story. it's simply a ploy by Authors to get reviews, which back them into a corner if these 'polls' don'tgo the way they're planned to. To the authors who like to do polls, scrap every poll you've doneand own your story. It's not the readers story, but your own imagination's thinking. If you insist on doing polls, you should just tell your readers that your going to quit writing and they can write whatever the hell they want. So, if any one read this and agree, disagree, want more into my inner thinkings, let me know, Jimmy Coin.