Lord Voldemort's red eyes shone in silent anger at the pair in front of him.
He had been away an hour ago to train Albus Dumbledore's Inferius form in the latter's family home over an attempt to catch the woman that had eluded him thrice before, Lily Evans-Potter. Knowing that she was desperate to find her husband (who was now dead) and added with Peter Pettigrew's disappearance, she bounded to investigate the Dumbledore cottage sooner or later for information.
Slithering near his feet was Nagini, who too hissed her displeasure at the woman beside his heir, and he briefly wondered if Severus understood the brown serpent as he did years before. His fingers were curled around his trusty yew wand and he kept eye contact with Zabini, wanting to delve into her mind and see what she had done to his heir-
"Don't hurt her!" Severus shouted that made him break his concentration, and he frowned disgruntledly upon noticing the young man was gripping his crutches in a tight hold before he stood between the Dark Lord and Francesca Zabini. "I… I- asked her to," Severus went on, eyes averting his gaze and bowing his head in submission. "I just… You seem not wanting me to remember who I am."
The Dark Lord didn't answer. Couldn't answer, since what his heir said was true. He admitted that he missed the deviously cunning yet vengeful Severus Prince who had removed the threats to his life, but the one opposite him reminded of his missed opportunity to have Severus as his actual heir, not merely connected through Meredith Gaunt. If only he had saved Severus much earlier, the young man would have a better life. He wouldn't have to live with the fact that his soul was permanently disfigured and that his own father had murdered him out of a misunderstanding.
Lord Voldemort felt a slight twinge in his heart, threatening to bow out at any moment though he merely dismissed the sensation. He then turned to Zabini, who too had lowered her head with shaky hands clasped together.
"Let's talk in the library, Zabini," he said slowly. "You stay with Severus, Nagini."
Nagini hissed softly and he strode toward the aforementioned room, not caring if Zabini had followed him; though if she knew what was good for her, she would heed his words right away.
The second he entered the Malfoy Manor's library, he waved his hand to shut the doors before turning around, mildly surprised to see the woman standing nearby the bookshelves, hands wringing against each other in worry and he couldn't help feeling a slight thrill over her terror. It had been some time since he got to inflict terror at his subordinates, after all.
"I have been too soft over the years, haven't I? Perhaps it's time to remind you who I am, Francesca Zabini," Lord Voldemort began as he circled her, stroking his yew wand all the while. "If I remember correctly, you had chastised me for the idea of bringing him to that horrible hovel. Yet it was you yourself who broke her own words, hmm?"
Francesca Zabini froze. "I…" she gulped, dark eyes flickered in fright, "I- I don't mean to; it's Severus-"
"Don't bring Severus into this conversation!" he shouted. "You know better what that house meant to him, yet you took him there anyway!" A sadistic part of him watched in glee as she cowered.
"...So you're content having him as an amnesiac?" she spoke timidly.
He sniffed, "If I must, then yes. Or are you not accepting his condition, and want him to get better – to remember himself – faster so that you can marry him?"
Her silence told him enough and the Dark Lord felt disgust crawling up his spine. "Get out of my sight."
The quick creaking of the mahogany doors swung open and clicked shut was enough for Lord Voldemort to know Zabini had taken her leave, and he sighed as he sat on the armchair. His brows furrowed when he remembered the glimpses of memories that he witnessed from Zabini's mind, of Severus looking in utter distraught at the dilapidated Snape house.
Although, he supposed the discovery would be inevitable anyway; he was just delaying what would come soon. He left the library and headed toward the manor's living room to look for Severus and Nagini, only to frown when they were not there. His feet then brought him to the room Severus would stay in whenever the Malfoys hosted him, and he knocked on the door three times. "It's me," he said.
"Enter," came Nagini's voice from the other side and he entered the room, red eyes softened at the sight of Severus stroking the brown serpent in the bed.
"…Marvolo," Severus mumbled, shirking slightly upon noticing him and the Dark Lord wondered if Zabini had told him of their conversation, though he no longer felt the need to hunt her down and teach her a lesson for such insolence.
Perhaps he really had gone soft, all due to the young man before him.
"I know you're angry," Severus went on but Lord Voldemort raised his hand to stop him from continuing.
"…Have you learnt enough?" he said instead after taking his seat beside the bed.
"Huh?"
"About what you saw. The house… Are you satisfied with what you found in there?"
Severus averted his gaze, hands mindlessly caressing Nagini's head. "It felt… horrible. I thought… what Mrs. Dursley told me was wrong."
"Petunia?" Lord Voldemort frowned at the name. "What had she told you?"
"…That my parents might have neglected me."
The Dark Lord froze, remembering how Severus' mother – Eileen Prince – had left her own son by the old oak tree in Spinner's End's playground. Or how Tobias Snape sent Severus into a paralyzing fright after threatening him with a gun, and if it were not for Severus' Horcruxes, managed to kill him without much of a thought.
"She said… my family got people talking about how bad we were, and I used to roam around the neighborhood even after nightfall," Severus continued, setting Nagini aside before curling into himself. "Were they really bad? Did I too? Did my parents even want me?"
Lord Voldemort's red eyes met Severus' own, and buried memories sprang forth in his mind; him being thoroughly examined by Muggle doctors over his magical powers, him watching in a deep twinge of jealousy from afar as parents who had lost their children in the Second World War adopting other orphans but never him because he was not normal like others, his resentment over his Muggle father after he learnt the truth, his determination to stay alive – to keep Salazar Slytherin's bloodline alive – since it was the only thing that gave him a sense of purpose in this world-
"…Do you hate me for not telling you about your immediate family?" he started slowly. When the young man didn't answer, he sighed morosely. "You're not bad, Severus. No one began their life that way. Sometimes Fate plays a cruel hand onto us. I'm sure your mother had loved you, even if... Even if she had done some poor decisions, like marrying… your father. My mother died after giving birth to me. One might call her a saint for it, but I know better. She was dead poor, the caretaker in the orphanage told me; crying over her supposed husband up to her death, and naming me after him. I hate her for what she did, but if it weren't for her giving up her life to save mine, I won't be here."
"It's alright to cry. Someone had – and will – love you for who you are." The Dark Lord wanted to say he loved Severus, but as what? By the means of the body restoration potion, Severus had become his biological son in a sense, though would it be right to call him as such?
'I will always love you no matter what happens next,' Lord Voldemort finally settled on his thoughts yet the words died in his throat. The concept of love was still rather foreign to him, and he wondered if he could fully experience its power when his soul was whole again. He was afraid of death, however the thought of someone remembering him out of compassion instead of fear gradually becoming more appealing and bearable. And if Severus was that someone…
Severus seemed to understand him when he smiled, and as he pulled his hand to join him and Nagini in the bed, the Dark Lord returned the gesture just as kindly, embracing his son and caressed his black hair dearly.
Soon, no one would hurt them anymore.
Lily Evans-Potter stood in front of the Pettigrew residence, red brows furrowed at the dusty doorknob as if it hadn't been touched for weeks, possibly even over a month. Where could her only friend be if he was not at home? How long had he been away, and why didn't he tell her? Frowning, she walked down the stairs with hands pocketing inside her jacket, thumbing her hidden willow wand despite the fact that she could no longer use should have seen it coming, to be honest. Her curiosity and jealousy over Severus Snape and Francesca Zabini's relationship had costed her magic, and her only means of self-defense was an enchanted dagger. She wondered if she had to resort to buy guns to protect herself in the ongoing war, even if there hadn't been as many public attacks as years before.
Sighing, Lily rode the bus to London and walked toward an old unopened department store with the sign Purge & Dowse Ltd. But she knew better; it was merely a disguise for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Britain's wizarding hospital. For a moment, she wondered if she could still enter the place but after quietly stating her reason to a dummy wearing a green pinafore, it beckoned its finger toward her and she quickly phased through the glass.
The reception area only had one nurse in lime-green robes, who quirked an eyebrow at her, "Yes?"
"I want to see Mrs. Pettigrew," Lily spoke with a weak smile.
"Pettigrew…" the nurse ran her finger through a list, "Third floor, fourth door."
Lily uttered her thanks before entering the elevator, mumbling the mentioned door and knocked on the door three times.
"Come in," a voice said and she opened the door, seeing an old lady was reading the Daily Prophet in disinterest.
"Hello, Mrs. Pettigrew," Lily said, to which the elderly woman lowered the newspaper, beady black eyes staring at her in slight curiosity. "Uh, Lily Evans-Potter. I'm one of Peter's friends."
"Potter?" Peter's mother blinked with a smile, "Well, a friend of my son is a friend of mine as well. How can I help you, dear?"
"Um… Has Peter come here recently? I stopped by his home just then, but… it seemed abandoned."
Mrs. Pettigrew's wrinkled face contorted into gradual puzzlement. "I… N- No," she said feebly, "He hasn't visited me for the past few weeks already. But worry not, dear; he had paid for my medical expenses."
Even with the older lady's affirming words, Lily couldn't shake the feeling something terrible might have happened to Peter. Could it be… Peter had taken her words to heart and went to search for James, only to go missing as well? Did he get caught by the Death Eaters?
Taking a taxi to return home to Godric's Hollow, Lily's heart continued thumping in agitation. She never thought that despite his small stature and timid demeanor, Peter Pettigrew really did have a sense of valiant courage associated with Gryffindor. And as much as she wanted to believe Peter was still alive, she also knew the Death Eaters and their leader, Lord Voldemort would overpower him and only hoped he met a quick painless death.
Arriving in front of the Potter cottage, Lily heaved out a deep sigh before entering the place. The house felt even more somber than ever now that her husband, James had become among the victims in the war and added with no news about Peter's whereabouts, Lily's green eyes pooled with frightened tears and she sobbed into her own arms.
She wished…
She wished…
She wished…
She wished for someone she can talk to without any prejudice. Who would listen to her woes, offer his advices and tried his best to solve her problems. There was someone who had been exactly just that, except for the fact he had closely associated with the Slytherins she knew had comprised the majority of the Death Eaters and was now amnesic due to the accident James and Alastor Moody had caused almost five months ago.
Unless of course, if she were to take advantage of his condition…
Her emerald green eyes glinted with renewed hope and Lily rushed to the basement, searching amongst her old school items frantically for the memento she had exchanged with her childhood friend and her heart soared in delight at the few black strands of hair inside her Potions book. Picking up one, Lily wondered if she had to brew her own Polyjuice Potion or buy store-made ones.
But with her latest feat, it could be assumed that she was a Squib; still able to interact with magical items but not possessing magic herself. And remembering how her sister, Petunia Dursley had been rather cordial to Severus Snape, it was her only chance to find out about the truth.
It was for the greater good.
Death stood by its Master's bed, watching from the shadows as the young man drumming his fingers on the desk, eyes fixed at the hazel wand. It had seen his previous trials, and although they could be deemed a success, it couldn't help thinking just how far he would go with the experiment.
After all, a wixen's first wand was considered sacred by wizardkind. But the Grim Reaper also knew the alternative ways for Severus Prince to regain his memories had low possibilities to make him remember, and it narrowed its red eyes at the desk's drawers where its creations were stowed away, wondering why Severus hadn't sensed any of them despite being in the close proximity of the Deathly Hallows. Even the Resurrection Stone, one that could bring whispers and apparitions of dead loved ones was unusually quiet.
A low yawn brought its attention to the young man, who then rubbed his eyes and took his crutches in hand before hobbling to the bed, heaving a relaxed sigh as he lay on the bed. Though, Severus' brows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling, and the Dark Angel could guess what was in his mind.
The memory of Tobias Snape.
Death could tell Severus was conflicted over the information he gained about his family, and who wouldn't? With both parents deceased and having no other living relatives, word of mouth simply couldn't be trusted.
It waited patiently until drowsiness overcame Severus and he snored softly, with the expression remained on his visage before it made itself visible and casted a deep sleep spell onto the young man. The tattered black robes it wore swept against the floor and the Grim Reaper conjured a silencing spell before unlocking the drawer and pulled out the most sought-after item among the Hallows.
The Elder Wand.
Death's own powers amplified its ethereal magic to the extreme and the Dark Angel bemusedly thought how even though the wand was the most powerful wand amongst others, its loyalty was nonexistent. The moment the owner was defeated, it would quickly change its allegiance and many had died at the attempt of possessing it. Turning back to Severus, it recalled how it once told the young man the Elder Wand might be useful to him someday. And apparently, now was the time.
Taking the hazel wand, the Grim Reaper admired its slender length and the symbolism of the wand wood itself. "In spite of everything, you befit everything that he stands for," it commented wistfully, "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for your master?"
The wand thrummed lowly and Death smiled before approaching the bed and placed the wand near Severus' head.
Loyalty truly was one of the greatest powers one could possess.
But just as the Dark Angel gripped the mighty Elder Wand, ready to cast the young man's memory spell onto the hazel wand, its red eyes fell onto the glass bracelet around Severus' right wrist.
Severus Prince's only remaining Horcrux.
Narrowing its eyes, it briefly pondered to put the soul shard into Severus and made his spirit complete again before proceeding with the memory restoration, yet what it planned to do might cause more trouble than intended and it had had enough with the sorrows Severus had to face due to his amnesia.
No. That could wait until Severus woke up.
Holding the Elder Wand, Death then focused its power and pulled out endless streams of memories that stemmed from the dragon heartstring core. It knew it may risk undoing what Severus had done in the past, but it was the only way that Severus could truly know about himself ever since the Fiendfyre erased his memories.
It knew the process almost reached the end when the small figure of Severus Snape had his hand stretched out to take the wand offered by Garrick Ollivander, onyx eyes twinkling and face beaming in utter delight at the prospect of having a loyal companion for the rest of his life-
CRACK!
The final strand of memory wisped out of the hazel wand just as the wood gave in to the intense magical pressure, and the Grim Reaper looked down to the broken item, seeing how the dragon heartstring core was blackened and the split halves of the wand began to turn white.
All its magic had been drained out, and sooner or later the wood would rot and flake into ashes, leaving nothing of its trace.
Knowing this, Death casted a stasis charm onto the hazel wand to slow down the rotting process and it turned to the grey orb floating beside Severus. The color was not surprising, after all Severus only had a small number of good recollections. Still, over a decade's worth of memories being forced into his mind in an instant would bound to put the young man into another coma.
With a soft apologetic caress of its skeletal hand, the Grim Reaper brought the orb toward Severus' temple and let it phase into his head before stowing the Elder Wand away into the drawer and disappeared into the night.