Lucius Malfoy was furious over the unexpected breaching of the pesky group who called themselves the Light side into his ancestral home. Though, he supposed the usage of the Polyjuice Potion and strong appearance-altering spells were great if a bit cheap.

Luckily, with the numerous number of Slytherin-based wizarding families and Potions Masters fighting alongside them in the ensuing battle, the group left afterward with barely any scratches on the Dark side; not minding a bit if there were some of them might get caught and Lucius sneered on the fact that those Lions were willing to save their own skin more over the others'.

So much for the bravery that Godric Gryffindor had preached on and on until their ears bleed.

Hiding his frustration behind his Occlumency shields, he then went to apologize to his guests for troubling them, who simply brushed it away with thanks for doing well to celebrate the joy of having the most brilliant Potions Master within their vicinity even for a brief moment.

As some of the parents began taking their children home by the Knight Bus (and what a shame it was for the Malfoys to allow such thing to step within their humble home), Lucius noticed his fiancée approached him with a weak smile.

"It seemed that our wedding will be a quiet ceremony, dear," he said after embracing her.

Narcissa Black, bless her kind heart, only hummed and held his arm securely, "I'd imagine so. Don't blame yourself over this; people could only see so much of the future."

They simply stood together whilst watching the parents that stayed behind were comforting their children before Lucius felt a niggling thought playing in his mind and his face went pale a second later.

"Had anyone seen Snape?" he almost panicked as he asked the remaining crowd.

The children shared a look with one another. "He went home already, Mr. Malfoy," one of them spoke.

At that, Lucius blinked in utmost incredulity. "But those men had set up anti-Apparation wards…" he mumbled with furrowed brows, stroking his chin thoughtfully. It was quite a hassle to dismantle the spells used; in fact the Dark Lord himself was still breaking the wards apart, cursing Albus Dumbledore under his breath every now and then.

"He told us to give this to you," a girl said and handed a glass vial to him, and Lucius' curiosity rose upon realizing the content inside of it and seeing the note attached to the neck of the vial by a thread. Despite it being ages since he last contacted Snape through letters, he still recognized the young man's elegant yet spidery handwriting:

Give this to the Dark Lord.

Lucius held onto the item until Narcissa took her leave with her sister, Bellatrix and passed the vial to Lord Voldemort as soon as he entered the manor with a flourish of his robes. Wondering what could Snape wanted to show to the Dark Lord with the memory strand, he then shook his head; already knowing there really was more of Severus Snape than meets the eye.

Sighing under his breath, Lucius then went to the living room and called all the house-elves that served his home to tighten the security wards and to sense any intruders around the mansion, be it of Polyjuice Potions or magical and Muggle disguises.

He would not disappoint his ancestors ever again.

Albus Dumbledore wondered when it had gone wrong.

The skirmish on Malfoy Manor back in early August was not supposed to be an attack at all; instead he had wished to see how Severus Snape had fared in spite of his disability. Though, he had known that his presence was not welcomed by the Slytherin families, so he and a selected few of the Order of the Phoenix's members had disguised themselves to watch over Snape's newest achievement party.

Of course, it was also meant to capture any suspected Death Eaters who made random attacks in different locations by listening to their discreet conversations, killing two birds with one stone.

When he first saw Snape smile weakly as he was being pushed on his wheelchair by Lucius Malfoy, Albus couldn't help but to think how could such a paranoid young man be so trusting over another? What could have been if Severus Snape and Lily Evans never broke their friendship?

But then for some reason James Potter had blasted a mild Explosion Spell to the main table and all chaos broke loose. Despite the ensuing disarray, the great wizened wizard still didn't forget the main objectives in infiltrating Malfoy Manor and the Order of the Phoenix fought to the very best until they were overpowered and ran away through the special Portkey of his Fawkes' feathers.

When they returned to Hog's Head Inn, Albus was relieved to see most of his young fighters were well before his wrinkled face went pale upon noticing something.

Caradoc Dearborn was not among them.

Death simply stood by in silence, hidden from anyone's view; even of its Master's, watching as the young man's chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm in his sleep. The black curtains of his hair that framed his gaunt visage shone faintly under the moonlight with his pale, sallow face for once was not contorted into any painful discomfort or indications that he was having nightmares. Beside him, the basilisk was prone whilst curling in a protective posture, ready to strike at any intruders or to comfort its owner.

The Grim Reaper had thought for sure that Severus Prince would simply tear the man he chose for the Taking Spell's ritual apart in revenge of the pain he made him suffer right in front of the children, but as always its Master had exceeded its expectations. Instead, after a moment of humble clarification he had asked it to wipe the horrific memory of the bloodbath from the eyewitnesses and requested for a variation of the ancient ritual so that he only would transfer his ailments rather than taking what he needed.

Death, being a great Lord of Magic of course, had agreed to its Master's rather benign requests. And thus, the ritual was not as horrifying as it hoped to see of, had known of what Severus could do when he was threatened; but it still relished over Caradoc Dearborn's frantic cries for help when his magical core was forcefully ripped from his body and molded into its Master's with a few coaxing words and drops of blood.

The basilisk was extremely helpful in disposing the remaining evidence afterward.

The Dark Angel turned to the few glass vials placed on the drawer beside the bed, narrowing its red eyes at the various liquids in each of them. It knew there was no real cure to Fiendfyre's inflictions, especially as terrible as the young man had suffered. The cursed fire was meant to destroy everything in its way, after all. The fact that his phantom raven's protection spell still lingered in his blood however, proved that hope was not lost.

Perhaps with enough time, Severus Prince would find within himself to heal to some extent again. And though it didn't really approve of his companions, it was not up to Death to dictate who had his best interests at heart.

Because ultimately, only madmen would understand one another and were willing to do anything so their world would not be compromised.

For over a year afterward, no one ever saw or heard anything of Severus Snape.

Some said he had gone into hiding in the Muggle world or fled the country altogether, worrying of getting caught into the ensuing war, which already had its sparks from the attack on Malfoy Manor. Others thought he went to search for more potent potion ingredients to be brought home, befitting of his new position and fame as the youngest Potions Master. The few of them whispered with hushed voices that Snape tried to get his injuries healed in spite of how unlikely that possibility was.

Not to mention there was a sudden outbreak of the dragon pox disease within the wizarding community of Britain, so the war briefly stopped with Potions Masters and Healers on both sides scrambled to create the perfect cure to those who got infected, much to no avail. They had all tried to contact Snape with every means, yet their letters and Floo calls were left unanswered, mainly due to no one knew where he really was.

But of course, only two people who knew where the elusive young man was, and both had kept their words to not reveal of his whereabouts.

Lord Voldemort was especially delighted over the fact that Severus Prince had only trusted him and his mother, who still lived in the Muggle world with her repulsive husband. Despite his intense hatred of Muggles, he did care enough of his heir's thoughts and had watched Eileen Prince from the shadows, telling Severus of his mother's life from time to time.

All the while, the young man supplied the Death Eaters with some temporary cures for the dragon pox patients and future plans for the Dark side to rule over wizarding Britain. The Dark Lord was still smirking as he stared at the Prince family's Portkey pendant before reading what Severus wrote just then:

I think you'd get enough influence if you were to set some of Azkaban's prisoners free. Just imagine, a Dark Lord of all people save them from eternal despair? It would be a great insult to Dumbledore and the Ministry in general, showing them how weak they really were. Won't it be funny to watch them trying to conjure happy memories over and over, only to be in utter misery moments later?

Lord Voldemort's lips curled into a wry smile as he imagined the implications of the idea. Ah, how he couldn't believe Severus Prince had such morbid ideas of torture, much akin to Bellatrix Lestrange on her best days. But he supposed that made the young man all dearer to him, seeing that they both had suffered terribly under the hands of Albus Dumbledore.

(He still reviewed the memory Severus had given him of what happened during the party of his Potions Master's celebration every now and then, taking in greedily of every detail that was hidden behind the dour, mysterious façade of Severus Prince.)

A faint hiss entered his ears and he turned to see Nagini at his feet. Still smiling, he held his arm out, watching as the serpent gently wrapped herself around and slithered closer to his face. "You look unusually happy," she started.

He simply rolled his eyes, "You know who it is already, dear."

"I suppose he already knew about that news, then?" she queried, and they both looked at the day's Daily Prophet's headline, which wrote:

POTTER FAMILY DECEASED, HEIR LEFT DISTRAUGHT

"Truly a shame that the pox didn't get all of them," Lord Voldemort snorted, "but I'd guess Severus was happy enough to see James Potter blubbering like some idiot incapable in taking care of himself; which he actually was." The two then shared a laugh.

"I'm going on a faraway trip, Nagini," he said afterward, "perhaps taking about a week. Would you mind if you stay here? Or would you like to be with Severus? Just so you know, you'd need to keep your eyes closed unless he said otherwise."

The brown snake's beady black eyes glinted and she flicked her tongue in interest, "I never really see a basilisk up close before, so…"

"That's the spirit, dear."

After writing to his heir for permission of letting Nagini to stay in Prince Manor and getting his agreement, Lord Voldemort and his serpent used the Portkey pendant to teleport to the hidden mansion, eager to finally see where his heir lived.

Prince Manor was not as grandiose as Malfoy Manor, but if he were to be honest, the Dark Lord thought it suited the whole family just fine with its warm colors against the greenery of nature. There were no gaudy decorations or eye-dazzling structures scattered throughout the hillside and the nearby forest. All in all, it was a place of complete serenity.

Mustering his courage with Nagini coiled loosely around his neck, he then knocked on the entrance doors three times.

"Who's there?" someone spoke from the other side of the doors.

At that, Lord Voldemort silently gulped in fear. He had long ditched his birth name, already embracing his new one as best as he could. Though he mentally shook his head and steeled himself to give his answer. Oh, he knew he just make up one, but he didn't think whoever it was in there would appreciate it if he turned out to be lying about his true identity. This was a family that valued truthfulness as much as loyalty; and he'd be damned to ruin such thing after painstakingly tried his best to gain Severus Prince's favor.

No, this must be the ultimate test to see whether he truly fit of getting Severus', and by extension, the whole Prince family's utmost trust.

And so with a heavy heart, he gritted his teeth as he uttered out, "I- It's… It's Tom. ...Tom Marvolo Riddle." Dear Merlin, how he hated that name. "And here's Nagini; I do believe I had told Severus that she's staying here for about a week."

"Oh, just a moment please," the person said, "You're so lucky he had given you permission to come over here, otherwise you'd be stranded elsewhere. Had such case in the old times; can't really feel sorry for him."

When the entrance doors were swung open, Lord Voldemort had expected many things; mainly of how the olden lords bowing to each other in greeting and exchanged some intricate gifts. Obviously he didn't bring such presents and he wondered just how the Prince family would accept him due to them only previously contacted with each other of Severus' coma back in March.

So imagine his surprise to see a silvery form of a ghost greeted him and Nagini with a polite bow.

"Surprised much?" the spirit said bemusedly with a raised eyebrow, "Septimus Prince, if you may kindly call me. Severus is in the dining room, come in."

The two newcomers looked around in interest at the moving portraits hanging across the hall; all greeted them with polite nods and quick pleasantries very much unlike those in Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord noted in great pleasure at how Severus was depicted in his portrait; he especially looked regal and mysterious, befitting of his true nature.

When the three stepped into the dining room, the ghost immediately left to check on the basilisk. "Hello," Severus spoke with a small smile as soon as Septimus disappeared from view.

For all what's worthwhile, perhaps those rumors he had heard of Severus' disappearance had their own inkling of truth. The young man in front of him still looked rather pale, but not as sickly and what was surprising the most was the fact that he no longer used his wheelchair.

"Painful thing it was, to get the bone mended by Muggle means," Severus muttered offhandedly after sipping on his tea. They then exchanged some news over the dragon pox and as expected, the young man laughed over James Potter's misfortune.

Taking his leave after an hour later of talking more about the plan to breach Azkaban's security system, the Dark Lord then prepared for his arduous journey to the dreaded magical prison. His Animagus form was exceptionally useful to fly without much noise and attention, and by the time he found a loose entrance to the prison, he placed a strong Disillusionment Charm onto himself.

Lord Voldemort might be a prodigy of Legilimency, but he would be a fool not to train himself to be as proficient in Occlumency and thus, he easily evaded the lurking presence of the Dementors before peering into one cell after another, searching for the best candidates that would serve well in his ranks. Stopping in front of the cell nearby the watchtower, the Dark Lord's red eyes then glittered under the faint moonlight upon seeing who it was.

"Hello, Mr. Lupin."