Warning: this chapter was gory as best as I could get (and may have slight form of injuries in the form of holes) so if you ain't comfortable with them, skip the near end of the chapter.
We cool with that? Good.
Severus spent most of his time trying hard not to think about the Taking Spell, which was well… very terrifying to read, lest of all actually doing such ritual! It was gory as hell, and the accounts written by the ancient witnesses described that most wizards who were subjected to such punishment (was it really a punishment when both parties had agreed to the rule before losing in a duel?) killed themselves afterward, especially those who lose their magical cores to another; thinking death was much better than being alive without magic.
He couldn't help from remembering one of the Muggle novels he had read during primary school, which talked of a scientist managed to bring a dead man made of different body parts back to life once again. He was intrigued by the Muggle writer's sheer imagination, but also felt sad for the nameless monster who only wanted to live as best as it could despite being a zombie; who only wished to have someone to accept who it was.
Severus found himself comparing a lot of his life to Frankenstein's monster's story after finding a copy of the book in Prince Manor's library. His ancestors had told him they were genuinely astounded by the Muggles' creative inventions to ease and entertain their life, and had gathered those that caught their eyes; namely books of course, but were also cautious enough not to interact with the non-magical people on a regular basis.
His mother's defying act of running away to marry a Muggle man sealed such paranoia, especially when it had just been after the war with Gellert Grindelwald and the Second World War.
Sighing, Severus went back to see the letters that brought his N.E.W.T results. He had gotten eight Outstanding subjects and two Exceed Expectations (per Mrs. Marshbanks' words, he didn't need to take the practical tests despite already visiting the Ministry to do a few of them), which were more than enough for him to venture into Potions Mastery.
It's just… he couldn't, all thanks to his multiple health issues. He hadn't even experimenting with other ingredients to make his potions because one such occasion in Malfoy Manor had sent him into a terrible coughing fit that lasted for a week; and he ruled out on using a gas mask since again, he depended a lot on his sensory senses. Potions, he thought, were where he shone the best. There were no foolish wand-waving or pretentious incantations; his work was done by his own efforts.
And thus, his mind strayed back to the Taking Spell. If he were to make the ritual, the person he chose must be unknown enough so it could simply be brushed off as a disappearance or something else.
…What was he thinking; already planning for such… murder?! Blatant thieveries of someone's biological features, and permanently change them into his own?!
Groaning in utmost frustration, Severus took the rolled transcripts he wrote about his modified potion recipes and put them in his satchel along with some of his medication potions. Surely the man would take time to listen to his woes, right? He was not bad, but not that great either and if he were to be honest, Severus felt awful for trying to guilt-trip him.
However, what else could he do? He didn't want to waste his life away like some degenerate that only lived off their ancestors' wealth, inwardly cringing upon remembering Petunia Evans-Dursley's rant about James Potter's flaunting during the engagement Christmas dinner nearly a year ago. At least by going to the man, he could get some semblance of respect among his peers.
"Libby," he called. When the house-elf appeared with a bow, he held his satchel tightly.
"Take me to Professor Slughorn's office."
Lord Voldemort was in his Animagus form, patiently stood in waiting for his heir to enter the room.
His second-in-command, Lucius Malfoy had set up a party to celebrate the lovely news of having the youngest Potions Master in recent history within the vicinity of renowned Potions Masters, the Slytherin families and discreet Death Eaters. He could barely contain his excitement upon hearing the young man's voice alongside Malfoy's.
"Where's the Dark Lord?"
"We are heading there, alright," Lucius said and stopped in front of the room the young man previously stayed in his coma.
When the door swung open, Lord Voldemort inwardly smiled as Nagini slithered fast on the floor to greet Severus Prince, with him remaining still at his place when the two started conversing in Parseltongue. It took quite a while for the young man to notice him but when he did, his eyebrows rose in curiosity.
"Hello," Severus said with a small smile and after moving his wheelchair closer to him, reaching out his arm to him. The Dark Lord went onto the offered arm and almost preened in delight when Severus started scratching under his chin and patted his head.
The three of them didn't exchange words after that, simply content being by themselves until Severus furrowed his brows as he turned to Nagini. "Pretty sure Lucius said he was in this room, but…" He then looked around the place in puzzlement before glancing at the brown snake again, this time with narrowed eyes. "…Why are you smiling like that?"
Sure enough, Nagini's lips curled upward and her beady black eyes glinted as if in amusement.
Lord Voldemort only observed as Severus was frowning at him, his disguised black eyes seemingly were in deep thoughts and examined all his facial features.
Then the young man laughed. It was a soft ringing of voice, and he had partially covered his mouth like those women did as in not to offend other people. After a while, Severus put him on the floor.
"…Really?" Severus huffed delightfully whilst shaking his head, "Of all animals you could get to be, you're an owl?"
The Dark Lord shifted back into his human form, also sporting a grin after standing up. "Hey, I can't really choose what I would be, now do I?"
"Thought for sure you'd be a snake, but I guess that was a bit on the nose."
Lord Voldemort rolled his red eyes in amusement; such stereotypes on his family sure had left quite a mark. "Thank you again, for this," he said instead, showing the Prince family's Portkey pendant around his pale neck.
He, the great Dark Lord had finally managed to gain Severus Prince's utmost trust and now they were connected by the loyalty bond the young man's family members were known of.
Severus only shrugged. "It does get a bit lonely in the manor."
As Nagini went to lie on the bed, Lord Voldemort helped to push his heir's wheelchair to the door before turning into his animal form once again and perched on Severus' shoulder while the young man opened the door, briefly frowning upon seeing Lucius Malfoy stood guard outside. Though with a frown as he looked around the room, Lucius then merely raised his shoulders before pushing the wheelchair forward.
Both the disguised brown owl and the raven-haired man exchanged knowing looks, simply content with the gentle pushing of the wheelchair and the Dark Lord pondered as to why Severus nodded politely to one of the house-elves that opened the door leading to the gardens.
The backyard of Malfoy Manor was as spacious as the mansion itself, with banquets and tables were set up lovingly amongst the gardens. Laughter of children having fun with some of the games rang across the place while the parents and adults were conversing with one another.
Lord Voldemort had his currently orange eyes squinted as he watched a few of his Death Eaters exchanged some pleasantries with Malfoy and Severus along the way. Besides, this was a great opportunity to cut out any possible traitors amongst his ranks.
When they arrived at the main table and Lucius placed Severus next to Narcissa Black, the blond man then took his seat and raised his glass of red wine up high. "Let's give a toast to the youngest Potions Master in the century, Severus Snape!" he spoke.
The guests followed suit with delighted cheers, causing Severus to blush due to the sudden attention and talked to Narcissa to distract himself. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord noted how Bellatrix Lestrange had her dark brows rose in deadpan upon seeing him before enjoying her meal with a shrug.
He only had told Bellatrix about his Animagus form, seeing that he didn't want to lose a valuable fighter within his ranks. And in turn, she too had begun training herself to achieve said ability, stating that a Slytherin must always had a trump card under their sleeve.
All in all, it was a fine summer day.
That was, until a blast of magic came out of nowhere and scorched the main table. Shrieks of terror immediately came after, and the Dark Lord looked around in haste, narrowing his eyes upon seeing unfamiliar faces amongst the crowd.
Narcissa quickly helped Severus getting to the mansion while he flew to a bush to transform back into human. "Get the children into the manor!" he ordered and took out his trusty yew wand.
No one would get away with harming his heir.
Narcissa had gone out to help the others, and Severus tried his best to calm the children who attended the party as they hid in one of the rooms while thinking of a way to protect them.
He could do some basic spells, alright; but even then he couldn't cast them on a regular basis. Even the Killing Curse he unleashed on Sirius Black took him out for nearly two days. Not to mention he was the only one in the room that was already of age, and he doubted he could take a fight on the Aurors that might enter the room.
The mahogany doors of Malfoy Manor were slammed open and they remained quiet as possible, straining their ears to listen on any intruders.
Their wish didn't come true when a man entered the place, initially surprised before grinning widely at them.
"Well, well, well," he said after locking the doors Severus had no chance to undo, "What do we have here?"
Severus had gripped his elm wand in anticipation of an attack but much to his surprise, the Auror used a Summoning Spell to take his satchel from him. Though he briefly blinked in puzzlement over the action, his eyes quickly widened as he understood the gravity of the situation.
"Give it back," he tried not to show his fear to the man opposite him. From behind him, he could hear the children in hiding echoed his words.
He felt the corner of his lips twitched in fright as his lungs began to irritate. It had been a long time since he last drank his medication potions for the day and he was way overdue for the next one.
Severus felt his chest started to constrict and burn up afterward; and he struggled to catch a breath amidst his coughing fit. "Please…" he heaved with teary eyes, already dropping his wand. The pain was getting unbearable by each second and he felt as if an invisible force was both burning and choking the life out of him.
Was this what his phantom pet raven, Rogue felt too when it sacrificed itself to the Fiendfyre that Sirius Black unleashed in the Slytherin dungeons back then? That ultimately, death was the only peace he would get?!
A particular tremor that rattled through his body had him doubled over his wheelchair to stabilize himself, still hacking his lungs out. As he tried to get a bearing, Severus felt something dripped out of his mouth and his eyes widened in utmost horror upon seeing what it was.
Blood.
He coughed out… blood. That… never happened before. It never happened ever since he woke up from his coma; already making sure to take his potions as quick as possible whenever the symptoms came up.
"Great Merlin!" he heard the man shout and with a blur, his satchel was passed back to him. Quickly, Severus scourged inside of the bag for his potions and drank them one after another in quick succession before doubling over once again to hide his discomfort as the cool sensation tried to fight off the fiery pain.
"I… I'm sorry," the man's empty apology entered his ears, "I- I thought you were only faking it out."
Just like that, Severus Prince's wrath sparked to life.
Fake? Fake?! FAKE?!
It was just with James Potter in Hogwarts' Great Hall all over again. Except of course, that pompous brat didn't do anything to kill him back then. The one in front of him though… the damned bastard he was, how could he dare to accuse him of faking his own illness?!
As his chest cooled down, Severus could feel one of his wands vibrated from the arm holster and discreetly took it out, knowing already from the texture of the wood that it was his blackthorn wand.
"…Sorry?" he spoke with a shaky breath, holding his chosen wand tightly. "That's it…? You… You almost killed me and all you can say is you're sorry?" He still didn't rise up from his position.
"I… I didn't know. I really am sorry about this-"
"DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A FAKE EXPRESSION TO YOU?!" With a snarl, Severus pounced onto the man, barely minding the painful throbbing of his left leg as he held his wand like a knife (and it felt like a knife too) and began stabbing the man's visage with high force, shouting in great distress with every plunge. All the while, he took his opponent's wand and snapped it into half with his left hand, not caring a bit when the other man howled in anguish over his lost weapon.
All he could see afterward was red. All he could hear was screams of agony. All he could feel was blood spraying about onto his skin. All he could smell was the pungent, metallic scent of blood. All he could taste was revenge.
He was ready to pierce the man's heart when a cold voice whispered into his mind, "Do it. Take him away and do the ritual of the Taking Spell. Those pains you suffer have no other remedy. Let him have a taste of it."
As if entranced by those words, Severus splayed his left hand onto his victim's chest in search for his core before his mouth broke into a wide grin which was hidden from view by his hair.
Like Victor Frankenstein's monster, Severus Prince only wanted to live.
Yes, this man's magical core would do just fine. And he had such healthy pair of lungs and leg too.