A/N1: I have now edited chapter one. For anyone interested, they can go back to read it, though it's not fully necessary to do so. The only changes made was that it is explicitly written that Harry did accidental magic (Dudley ended up being twirled around the ceiling like the Muggles at the World Cup) and that because the Headmistress of Harry's school got involved, the two boys ended up in the hospital.
Thanks for reading!
A/N2: I have a beta, but like me, my beta also has other responsibilities and doesn't always have time. I use Grammarly to catch mistakes, but obviously, I might miss or overlook something that is obvious to you but not to me. Please, let me know so that I can take the time to correct it. I want you to enjoy the story after all.
A/N3: This chapter is (hopefully) going to be the only one that goes against my "one scene per chapter rule" as it is the only chapter of Voldemort that I plan on writing. Since Sala had been 'created' in this chapter, I could hardly write it in his POV.

August 1979

"Why, thank you for telling me, Severus," Voldemort said smoothly before standing up and moving towards the man.

"Yes, my Lord." Severus Snape responded, keeping his head down.

"You may leave."

The man nodded, walking backwards until he reached the door before exiting.

Three weeks had passed since Severus had come to him with the news. He was still unsure who the prophecy was about, but it was getting closer to needing a plan. The lingering prophecy was constantly on his mind, and seeing as he couldn't destroy it as it wouldn't change the outcome, Voldemort pondered how he could work around it. He also needed to hear it in its entirety. But regardless, knowing someone would look to kill him grated on his nerves.

He would need to create a backup to do his dirty work in case his original fail safes… well, failed.

The idea of being with a woman made him shudder, if not for the primary reason that it was for lesser folk to share a bed. He was above that and didn't need it. His best option would be finding a woman to force into giving him an heir. The only option was a pure-blooded woman, as going with a Mudblood turned his stomach. It was enough that he was a halfblood, but at least it was the best-kept secret in magical Britain.

Any heir he produced would pass as a pureblood. He supposed another secret should be that his son would be fatherless. What kind of reputation would he have if people knew?

Voldemort sighed heavily, pulling a strand of hair behind his ear. Bellatrix was definitely out. The idea of creating a small Bellatrix scared him, though he'd never admit as much to any of his followers, not even his inner circle.

It would have to be Narcissa.

"Severus!"

"My Lord." the man intoned, slithering into the room like an actual snake, keeping his voice level.

"I require Narcissa. Alone. Lucius may not join in the meeting." Voldemort refrained from smirking at Severus' antics.

Severus stiffened but bowed and left the room. Narcissa wasn't part of his inner circle, nor was she a Death Eater. Her husband, however, was both. It would be interesting to see what she thought of his proposal. Not that she had much of a choice.

About fifteen minutes had passed, bringing the return of Severus, along with Narcissa, who, despite the situation, seemed to have a slight glow about her. Without warning, Voldemort aimed a spell at Narcissa, muttering something under his breath. It wouldn't have been necessary with how she clutched her belly protectively.

"Yes, I thought so," Voldemort murmured, smiling pleasantly at her. "Severus, you can leave."

The young man hesitated for a fraction of a second, then bowed and left, wincing slightly at the woman. But didn't dare say anything.

Narcissa had taken a knee, keeping her head bowed.

"You are with child," Voldemort said, walking around her to intimidate the woman. She remained calm, her hand still covering her stomach, despite no visible bump.

"Yes, my Lord," Narcissa said softly, not bothering to deny it, especially after the spell Voldemort had already done to confirm a pregnancy.

"Now, Narcissa. I do need a favour from you."

The woman did not bother responding, and for once, Voldemort felt calm enough not to curse her for her insolence.

For a moment, Voldemort hesitated. This would not be very pleasant even to say out loud.
"First," Voldemort began, deciding to take the safe route. "I need you to stand up and make an unbreakable vow."
He could hear Narcissa's breath hitch from her position on the floor but chose to ignore it. "Talby," Voldemort called, and he could see the shock on the woman's face before it quickly smoothed out again behind a cool mask of indifference. Voldemort leered; any child this woman made would be absolutely perfect.

Like any Pure-blooded house, Voldemort had made his house-elves dress prim and proper, without a speck of dirt anywhere. "I need you to get Severus." Talby popped away, and within a minute, Severus was at his door again. The boy must not have left. "Narcissa here needs a witness for an unbreakable vow." Voldemort drawled, "And I need you to be the witness."

"Of course," Severus responded without hesitation.

"Narcissa."

The woman stood up with a delicate grace, and Voldemort found himself appreciating the form and elegance of the woman he was about to share a bed with.

"Take out your wand, Severus."

Severus stood to the side as Narcissa and Voldemort clasped hands.

"Now, eyes to me, Severus."

Voldemort waited until the Potions Master looked directly into his eyes before using Legilemency, to wordlessly and wandlessly give over the instructions. He knew the moment Severus realised what was happening and what would come to pass if he and Narcissa disagreed.

"Begin, Severus," Voldemort demanded when it took too long for the man to begin.

"Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded, looking back towards Narcissa and inclined his head. She smiled back politely, then cleared her face once more. Slytherins were so obvious without being obvious.

"Will you, Narcissa Malfoy, adhere to everything the Dark Lord tells you?" Severus began, holding his wand against their linked arms.
"I will." the woman replied.

"And will you, Narcissa, keep this information, and all that goes along with it, hidden from your husband, Lucius Malfoy?"
Narcissa couldn't hold back her blanch but responded: "I will."
"And will you give up the child to your Lord once it is born?"

"What?!" Narcissa asked, scandalised, hissing when magic zapped her for failing to comply with the rules of the vow. Gritting her teeth, Narcissa replied: "I will." She could feel magic zooming around her, accepting her words as true, and the punishment of death would hold her to whatever her husband's lord wanted of her.

"You may leave now, Severus."

"With respect, my Lord, I already know -"

"Out, now."

Glowering, Severus left the room, leaving Voldemort alone with Narcissa again.

"My Lord-" Narcissa began, moving away from him to where she had some personal space around her.

"Narcissa."

She growled at him.

"We will share a bed, Narcissa. I will perform a spell that will guarantee that you will carry my child, despite you already carrying one."

"And then you expect me to give up the second child."

Voldemort could see her menacing look return but said nothing. Magic was finicky, and he didn't want to mess up the process by angering the one who would need to bring his heir into the world.

Feeling for a woman who wanted to be a mother and would probably be better than his own - Voldemort amended his words, knowing Narcissa couldn't repeat anything outside this room. "You can be the Godmother, which is me being nice; if you don't comply, your little one won't see the time of day, and neither will you."

Narcissa's face pinched, her hand floating back to her stomach, her anger and protective instincts intensifying at the very thought of losing the child she had. It clearly bothered her to lose the second child, even though she didn't carry it yet.

"If something happens, I want custodial rights!" Narcissa snapped, and Voldemort could feel her magic's strength, which pleased him greatly, despite her arguing with him.

If someone told him, the most excellent Dark Lord in history, that he would fight over parental rights, he would have cursed them on the spot.

"Only if something happens." Voldemort agreed smoothly, knowing nothing ever would, seeing as his failsafe would come into play.

"Agree on your magic," Narcissa demanded.

"Narcissa." he hissed, his voice going cold.

"Please…"

"If anyone finds out about this, I'll kill you myself. Magic won't even get a chance." She didn't even flinch at the sound of death other than hovering over her stomach to hide it from him. Voldemort barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

After thinking through his words, Narcissa smiled for the first time and went to the bed of her own will. At least magic wouldn't cause an issue with her, albeit reluctant, acceptance.

Time went by quickly, it felt, and Voldemort admitted, if unwillingly, that he enjoyed himself. Too soon, Narcissa was leaving, and despite all the arguments, he was sure Narcissa was ecstatic to have another child growing within her. At the door, he heard her greet Severus, who must have waited this entire time for her safety.

"Your Lord is a bastard, Severus, but he's alright too."

Severus peeked into the room and bowed, ignoring that Voldemort was entirely undressed, and even the Potions Master could see his handsome features and why someone would be okay with sharing a bed. Voldemort turned his back, pleased with his accomplishments of that day, and he missed the facepalm of his most faithful servant.

9 Months Later

Voldemort found that waiting for something for nine months helped to forget the events that happened earlier that year. Especially with all the raids he had his Death Eaters go on. It definitely kept him busy each day to round up potential new followers. Dare he say fun? Anytime someone accepted his proposal, he felt confident about his status as Dark Lord. His need for someone to pass on his legacy was still there, but it was so far back in his mind that it only popped up in his subconscious when he slept.

It was, therefore, a mild shock when a very confused Antonin Dolohov knocked on his door, holding a tiny bundle in his arms, and the sound of a baby's cries rising to a pitch, causing both of them to wince.

Oh, Voldemort thought, pressing a finger to the pressure point over his nose. Right.

"Shall I just get rid of it, my Lord?" Dolohov asked, moving to get his wand.

"NO!" Voldemort snapped, sending a sting hex to Dolohov's hand, forcing him to drop his wand with a yelp, but had the foreseeable result of him also dropping the baby.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Voldemort ground out, relieved when the child rose above the floor a moment before he smacked into it.

"And you, Dolohov." Voldemort scowled fiercely at him. "Crucio." The sound of screaming drowned out the child's wails, enabling the Dark Lord to finally think clearly. While Dolohov was incapacitated, Voldemort took the bundle that had come to a stop gently on the floor. A letter was hidden within the blankets, which he quickly took out and read.

"As promised." A postscript was underneath the words with a slight sparkle of magic around it. Turning around, the Dark Lord lifted the spell off Dolohov and left the room. Once alone in his study, Voldemort pressed his magical signature into the parchment, and the document was filled with words.

The woman was nothing if not innovative, he acknowledged.

My Lord,

The child was born on June 5th, almost immediately after Draco Lucius Malfoy. They are called "Superfetation twins", in which they share a womb but were conceived at different times.

Unlike Draco, I did not name this child, as I feel their bond would grow stronger if I gave him a Malfoy name.

Please let me be now, my Lord.

Narcissa Malfoy

The letter burnt up in his hands as soon as the Dark Lord finished reading.

She hadn't named him… It was another way Narcissa had proved to him she was a clever witch.

With a sigh, Voldemort took in the child, gazing at the features that were both a mix of him and Narcissa. The boy would need a name, and then Voldemort wanted it out of his face. He doubted a newborn thing would understand about his legacy, anyway. "How about Salazar?"

Voldemort pressed his lips together. That was way too obvious, and there was no way in hell that he would give the child a Muggle last name. Imagine naming him Riddle, of all things. Shuddering at the very thought, he twisted his wand between his fingers, contemplating, Sala… Zahar. It was perfection!

"Your name is Sala Zahar. You descended from very important people." The child blinked at him as if agreeing.

"Talby," Voldemort called, already holding out the bundle. The elf popped in, and the man handed him the baby, grimacing slightly. "This is Sala Zahar. He is my heir and will need to be taken care of until I can teach him the ways. Feed him, clean him, whatever."

"Yes, Master."

Biting his lip, Voldemort took out a fresh parchment and dipped his quill into the ink, hovering it over momentarily as he thought. How old was old enough to learn a legacy? He reckoned Talby would have taught him how to read by four. If not, he could hire some tutors for the boy. He had to be raised like a pureblood. Once Sala could read, he could explain in person rather than the instructions he had written shortly on parchment.

Voldemort paused, thinking back on the prophecy, wondering if it was important for his human failsafe to know about it. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…." Two children born in July 1980 fit that description: Longbottom and Potter. Any child of Potter would be a halfblood, and as much as he loathed to admit it, Voldemort felt it fit. All he needed now was to find the damn Potters.

A drop of ink fell onto the parchment, but the man ignored it before finally penning his missive.

Hours later, the Evening Prophet, delivered by an owl to his study, made Voldemort realise his mistake. He hadn't obliviated Dolohov. Or anyone else that might have seen Dolohov walk into his manor with a freaking baby in his arms.

YOU KNOW WHO HAS A SON? WHO HAS WOOED AND DOMESTICATED HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED LONG ENOUGH TO COPULATE?

Screaming, Voldemort threw the paper into the fire, not even bothering to read the entire article. Usually, the paper was all guesswork, so it was a vague hope that the readers of the Wizarding World would see it and laugh. But it was always the unbelievable things people believed, whether true or not. There was no way he would live this down. It annoyed him that, of all things, the mere mortals would think that it belonged to HIM just because a Death Eater had carried it into his manor.

Fuming, Voldemort pressed his dark mark, then waited impatiently for everyone to pop in. Severus popped in first, and the Dark Lord glared at him fiercely. "Not a word, Severus."

Severus bowed his head respectfully. "Wouldn't dream of it, my Lord."

Voldemort randomly hexed his Death Eaters for the next few minutes until he approached Dolohov.

"You!" he snarled, his wand trembling in his hand. "Legilimens."

Fortunately for Dolohov, he hadn't sold this information… unfortunately though, "Avada-"

"My Lord," Snape interrupted him.

"Severus."

"Muffliato."

Voldemort raised his eyes at the use of magic before him, but he trusted Severus more than anyone else there and allowed it.

"Silencing charm, my Lord. Allows those attempting to listen to hear an unidentifiable buzzing sound rather than what we say."

"What is it, Severus?" From the corner of his eyes, he could see Dolohov had fallen to his knees, bowing entirely as if about to kiss the hem of his Lord's robes.

"If I may, my Lord. If you kill Dolohov, the Death Eaters would be more suspicious. It would be better to let them think the Daily Prophet is bonkers. If you feed the rumours, it will only grow."

With another sigh, Voldemort announced. "Everyone is dismissed. Dolohov, you owe Snape a life debt."

He had never seen any of his followers leave so quickly before, though Snape was as calm as ever.

More time passed, and a day of joy came upon him when Pettigrew told him the news. He knew where the Potters were!

Severus had begged him, even so much as to get on his knees, to plead for the life of his childhood best friend, that he could see at the forefront of Severus' mind that he loved her. How inconvenient.

Reluctantly, he agreed.

"I plan on removing the memories of her magic and her son but don't remind her because I will kill him. Good day, Severus."

Voldemort could see his gobsmacked expression and laughed. Today was a good day.

Reluctantly, Voldemort went to Talby, who was busy changing Sala's diaper. Distracted, the Dark Lord noticed that his heir looked like he did as a child and wondered if Albus Dumbledore would notice or if the boy would grow to look different than he did.

Wrinkling his nose, Voldemort spoke, holding out the missive he had written.

"Nothing should happen, but if it does, this needs to go to Sala."

The Dark Lord turned away then as Talby bowed his acceptance.

As Voldemort left his manor, he could feel the eyes of his Death Eaters following him, able to hear their surface thoughts even from where he stood. Straightening his back, he apparated to Godric's Hollow.

Finding the house was easy now that the Fidelius Charm was broken.

"He's here!" he heard James Potter scream. "Take Harry and run!"

Sighing, Voldemort killed the man and moved on. Harry was clearly with his mother, and remembering his promise to Severus, he would have to avoid killing her. Harry's cries echoed from the back room on the second floor, so Voldemort gracefully climbed the stairs and blasted the door open.

"Please, not Harry! Take me instead."

Voldemort pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Severus has requested that you not die. He is my most faithful Death Eater, and therefore I actually care about what he wants."

"S-severus?"

"Yes, now stand aside, you silly girl."

"No! I don't care what Severus wants; I will never give you Harry."

"Obliviate."

A fuzzy look overcame the redhead, and she tilted her head in confusion.

"Sorry, can you move?" Tom asked her politely.

She smiled and moved to the side obligingly.

"Avada Kedavra"