Chapter Seventeen – In Dolus Intortis
Marvolo, after basking in the silence for a moment stands up. He gestures for the others to follow him to a group of cushioned seats surrounding an ornate fireplace. Sitting down in one of the armchairs, Marvolo smiles when Aldwyn scampers behind the brothers and settles himself back in Bill's lap with none of his previous hesitance as they settle on the sofa. Sending a wordless Incendio toward the fireplace which explodes to life, Marvolo calls for a house elf to bring mugs of hot chocolate for them to enjoy.
"Aldwyn? There is one final thing I wished to speak to you about today."
Aldwyn takes a sip of his chocolatey drink, pulling a handkerchief from his robes to dab his upper lip before he turns his attention to his father. Eyebrow raising.
"There was a reason why I refused to mark Bill and Charlie as Death Eaters. I would like for you, my son, to have your own Inner circle much like my Elite."
"You want me to have my own followers?"
Marvolo nods his head. It had been a long and difficult conversation between himself and Severus but in the end, they concluded that it would be better for Aldwyn to have his own circle of trusted followers. He could run them however he wished, give them guises, and uniforms, and mark them as his own if he so chose. It would not only make him more secure in his role as the Heir to many significant households but also help increase his confidence and value. Aldwyn stares at his father, wondering if the man was joking with him or not before he glances up at Bill, then Charlie.
"Would you guys want to? I don't want to force you if you do not wish to be part of my circle."
Bill immediately tugs the child against his chest, carding a hand through the silky midnight locks. He shares a quick glance with his younger brother, faces brightening. Pushing Aldwyn back enough so he can catch his gaze, Bill grins down at the child.
"We would be happy to accept a place in your circle, Aldwyn. We are honoured that you would trust us enough to allow us such a privilege. We won't let you down."
Aldwyn nods, biting his lip in thought. He glances at his father knowing that he is going to have to come up with a name to call his followers. He wanted something ironic, something obvious and yet subtle at the same time. Something that would strike fear into the hearts of Dumbledore and his following while leaving some ambiguity. He sinks deep into thought, sipping his hot chocolate as he contemplates and disregards ideas as quickly as they come.
"In Dolus Intortis." He sits up, eyes widening as his lips stretch into a vindictive smile. Marvolo raises his eyebrows at the choice, a smirk making its way across his features.
"A perfect choice, Snakelet."
"What does it mean?" Charlie questions after he exchanges a glance with Bill, turning his attention back to Aldwyn and Marvolo when their smirks widen.
"It can be directly translated into 'The Guise' which can be defined as 'The Cunning Intelligence'. I thought it would be amusing to name my own faction, the followers of the Heir to the Slytherin Household a version of Slytherin's Intelligence. Seen as the Slytherin House traits incorporate ambition and cunning natures. An ironic play on words if you will."
Bill and Charlie think it over for a few minutes before promptly bursting into peals of laughter. It really was overtly obvious while being decisively subtle and they loved it. It really was a Slytherin choice in both name and nature. Which wasn't all that surprising considering Aldwyn was the Heir of Slytherin and son of the famed Dark Lord Voldemort and Severus Prince.
"I think I will go by Cronus when with my followers, on raids and missions, and in meetings because no doubt we will be included in some Death Eater meetings once I become old enough. It is the name of the leader of the Gods in Greek Mythology." Aldwyn adds thoughtfully, gazing across at his father who nods his approval. He liked it, a very strong and noble name for his son and Heir. He is a little surprised with how fast Aldwyn was coming up with such impressive choices but didn't wish to throw his thoughts into question by asking about it. He smiles at his son and couldn't wait for Severus to return home so he could hear all about it as well. No doubt, Severus would not miss the irony either.
"Alright, what about Bill and Charlie? Will you be choosing their guise names or are they choosing them themselves?"
Aldwyn turns around on Bill's lap to gaze from one brother to the next and back again raising his eyebrow in question.
"Whatever you decide is good with us, Aldwyn, or should I say Prince Cronus?" Bill chuckles at the deep scowl shaping Aldwyn's features at his teasing, and he tugs the child back against his chest.
"How about Arete for Bill, he is the God of Bravery and Military Strategy, and Ares for Charlie, the God of War? I think they suit the two of you well."
"Alright."
"Nice, I like it."
"I think it would be good to have uniforms similar to the Death Muncher robes to allude to the fact that we are allies, but they need to be different as well. I believe it would be nice to have a colour assigned to each member which would be sewn into the hem of our uniforms. Or we could have our group emblem in our individual colours sewn into the fabric. That way we would be able to easily identify each other by name and it would set us apart from the Death Munchers. What do you think, father?"
Marvolo smiles down at his child awed by Aldwyn's ability to take charge in such a manner. He lets himself relax back into his armchair, wishing Severus was here to see their son acting like the Dark Prince of their Sect. He had no doubt that Severus would be immensely proud of him, just as he is.
"They are your faction, Snakelet. You are in charge of them all. It is completely up to you, if you wish to have colours designated to each individual and your own emblem then I will support you in it all. We could even go to Knockturn Ally to pick up any equipment you may require."
"That would be nice. Bill and Charlie should come with us as well. That way we could have their equipment blood linked to them. It would stop other people from being able to summon or use their kit if it were to get lost or stolen. Then again, I could add a ward to everyone's belongings, so they automatically return to their rightful owner after a certain amount of time?" Aldwyn mutters.
He slides off Bill's lap, summoning a piece of parchment and a quill before collapsing to the floor in front of the coffee table. The room falls into a comfortable silence as they watch Aldwyn work, the only sounds being the scratching of Aldwyn's quill and his occasional mumbles.
Eventually, Aldwyn sits back with a large grin stretching his lips. Grabbing three sheets of parchment from his workspace, he holds them up in turn to showcase his ideas and designs for his father and Weasleys to peruse. He would show his papa as soon as he returned home. The first picture was of an outfit composed of a black fold-over shirt with green accents on the hem of the sleeves and a triangular covering. It was partnered with a pair of black trousers with a green strip down the outer side of each leg and a silver belt with a green circle acting as the buckle. A pair of black dragonhide boots adorn the model's feet. Aldwyn looks down at the page and points to the flashes of colour.
"These bits will be done in the specific colours of each member. It will make it a lot easier for us to tell each other apart on the battlefield so we do not have to rely on faces and voices which would give our identities away to the Light."
He flips to the next page and the adults suck in a breath at the intimidating, yet elegant garb. It is an outer cloak; one they assume would go over the previous outfit. It was of a similar design as the shirt where it is held together down the right-hand side by ten silver buttons allowing the material to flow open around the legs and halt mere centimeters from the floor. A black hood is drawn up over their head, with a black and green half mask adorning their face. As they peruse the impressive design, they notice a small green emblem positioned on the left-hand side of the cloak which must be the emblem Aldwyn had settled for.
"I was thinking of having each member wear a half-size black mask to cover their eyes and nose with blood seals installed so that, if captured in their guise, no one other than themselves would be able to remove the mask. They will also have built-in voice distortion charms along with protection charms to ward off the Imperious and compulsions which would, in turn, prevent anyone from forcing my members into revealing their identity." Aldwyn reveals the final page to show a circle consisting of a singular snake. Their body entwined and twisted around itself, completing the circle by biting its own tail.
"This is our mark. We will have them sewn into the front of our uniforms, as you saw but I also want a larger print of it on the back of our robes. This would not only allow us to identify each other at any angle but it will etch our emblem into the minds of anyone we fight. It will also ensure the Death Munchers know exactly who you are and who you belong to. They will, of course, be in your own colours."
Aldwyn places the pages down on the coffee table, smiling up at his father as the man nods his head in agreement, pride shining in his eyes. Marvolo holds a hand out, silently asking to have a closer look at his son's designs, and is immensely impressed by the detail and thought Aldwyn had put into crafting something so impressive in such a short time frame. He truly had thought through everything that potentially could endanger his followers, a true Slytherin method of thinking. Severus would enjoy looking over them as well.
"These look brilliant, Aldwyn."
"Charlie is right. They are fantastic. I can't wait to see the look on Dumbledore's face when he catches sight of them for the first time. Imagine him learning about the In Dolus Intortis in the middle of a raid, or from the Daily Prophet. It would throw them through a loop that's for sure." Bill chuckles, taking the sheets from Marvolo when the man passes them over. His eyes trail the complete outfits, eyes shining with anticipation of actually owning one of them.
Charlie leans in, looking over his brother's shoulder and whistles. If Dumbledore and his followers didn't quake in fear at the sight of their mark it would be much to their disappointment. They were going to do their leader, despite his young age, proud.
"Oh, father. I have a question about one of the books I was reading earlier." Aldwyn states, taking his designs back from Bill. Placing them down on the coffee table, he wrings his hands together. Glancing back to his father, Aldwyn grins when he receives an encouraging nod.
"Well, the book was trying to explain the difference between what the Ministry Classifies as 'Dark magic' and 'Light magic' and how they have differed over the centuries, depending on who is in power. However, from what I have managed to understand underneath the author's incessant rambling is that the spells themselves cannot actually be classified by what it is and what it does…" Aldwyn trails off uncertainty shining in his eyes. He dips his head trying to recall the information he had read. Worrying his lip, Aldwyn startles when a warm hand cards through his hair. Turning around, Aldwyn smiles when he meets his father's kind gaze and feels himself relaxing.
"What is your question, Snakelet?" Marvolo coaxes, taking hold of Aldwyn's hand, he tugs his son towards him. Pulling Aldwyn up onto his lap, he cuddles him close, dropping a kiss on his crown he smiles when Aldwyn twists around to wrap his arms around his father in return.
"Well, why are spells classified the way they are? What makes a Dark spell Dark?"
"A very good question, Snakelet. Alright, I want you to listen very carefully okay because this ties in nicely with one of the main goals of our side. Something Lucius is overseeing to get pushed through in the Ministry." Aldwyn nods, settling further against his father. He really wanted to know more about his father's goals to see if there was anything he could do to help despite his young age.
"Most witches and wizards would define Dark Magic as spells which have the potential or those which only cause deliberate harm to another person. Those who inflict pain purposefully on someone be they creature or human. Others classify Dark Magic as those spells and rituals which include the use of blood, sacrifices of other bodily fluids, and aspects such as hair as these are dubbed inhuman and unnatural."
"But that doesn't make sense. Some Dark spells classified by the Ministry are healing spells, they don't harm anyone when they are cast and the Polyjuice potion is a 'Light' potion but that requires human hair to work." Aldwyn exclaims, shaking his head. Nothing about this was making sense to him.
"Exactly, Snakelet. These classifications were made up by those in power to control and manipulate the population into a very strict set of beliefs. However, most pureblood families know the true definitions of 'Dark' and 'Light' magic." Marvolo waits for Aldwyn to nod his understanding before he continues.
"Every witch and wizard are born with what is known as an affinity to a branch of magic. A branch of magic that they will find easier to perform, which will work better with their core. If you think about it, Snakelet, Light magic and Dark magic both have their own versions of every spell. For example, they all have their own healing spells, some of which heal certain ailments better than the other, but they do the same job. The only difference is that they will work to varying degrees for different people depending on their affinity."
"So, there isn't really a difference between 'Light' and 'Dark' magic? It is just like some people being left-handed while others are right-handed?" Aldwyn questions, leaning back so he could meet his father's gaze.
"Exactly, Snakelet. 'Light' magic isn't necessarily good, while 'Dark' magic isn't inherently evil. Many confuse this because the Unforgivables require a strong intent to hurt the victim. However, it is true for every spell. Each spell we cast requires the will of the caster for the spell to work. If there is no will, then all we are doing is waving a stick around and shouting words in Latin. Do you understand?"
"Yes, father. When we were learning the Alohomora, Professor Flitwick told us to imagine ourselves unlocking something. That we have to want the door to unlock."
"It is the same for 'Light' magic. A light spell can be used to harm someone significantly if one puts their intent behind the spell, or if one accidentally overpowers a spell. For example, if I were to put all my power behind a simple severing charm, something taught to First-year students then I could easily slice a limb from someone's body. If I put a little too much power behind an Expelliarmus I could send my enemy several feet backward."
"So, because of the Unforgivables. Three spells which were designed originally to assist in protecting the wizarding world, instead of debilitating them, an entire affiliation of magic has been dubbed bad and evil?" Aldwyn questions, tapping his chin in thought. He didn't think anyone could blame an entire branch of magic just because someone decided to use spells for something other than their intended use. The book he read was very clear on the original purposes behind the 'Unforgivable' curses. A name given to them in the 1860's almost a century after they were created.
"What do you mean the Unforgivables were designed to help the wizarding world?" Charlie asks, voice laced with confusion. It is Aldwyn who answers.
"A Medi-wizard in the late 1700s didn't like the idea of merely leaving his patients who had been diagnosed with terminal illnesses to slowly, agonisingly, die. He tried for the majority of his career to finding some way of easing their pain, curing their illnesses, or allowing them to pass on painlessly. Finally, he came up with a spell that would allow his patients just that. It was a spell that would instantly kill a person without any pain and would leave no marks on the body. It would be as if they had just died of natural causes. This Medi-wizard was revered for decades for his creation until one day a deranged Medi-witch started using this spell to murder her patients because she didn't want to constantly care for them anymore. Therefore, the Wizengamot at the time ruled the spell an Unforgivable instead of condemning just the witch."
"Around the same time, a Lord from a prominent household lost to time was terrified that his daughter was harming herself. He discovered that shortly after her marriage she had miscarried twice and was suffering from severe depression. She was, not only harming herself, but her actions were also harming her chances of trying for another child as her body was not doing well. He was frightened of losing his only child to this and so created a spell that would allow him to subtly nudge her into eating or to plant doubt in her mind about the self-harm. When this creation got out, he too was revered for his development and many people began to use the spell to save the lives of people who were attempting to take their own lives or harm themselves. However, a strict pureblood Lord despised how 'unruly' his daughter was and overpowered the spell in order to take complete control of his children and force them to do his bidding. The court, therefore, ruled this spell a danger to society and banned it, as much they did the Killing Curse." Marvolo continues, dragging a hand down Aldwyn's back absently. It had been a long time since he had spoken about the history behind the Unforgivables, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that his son had researched the topic on his own.
"What about the Cruciatus? Was that made for other purposes?" Bill asks, leaning forward in his seat as he listens to their explanations. It threw so many of his teachings into question that he wanted and needed to know more.
"The Cruciatus was also made by a medi-witch who lived in the Muggle world for 13 years. She worked as a nurse in one of the larger hospitals and found their use of anaesthetic, a medicine that can numb a patient's pain when they go in for surgery. She thought it could be used in the wizarding world, but she knew they wouldn't accept this Muggle invention and so she spent years trying to create a spell that would almost perfectly replicate the medicine. She used her knowledge of Biology to create a spell that targets a person's nervous system which is how our bodies register pain. She would send shockwaves through the body tricking the brain into thinking there is no pain. However, once again someone found this spell and thought they would experiment on some unsuspecting muggles to see what he could do with such a spell. In the end, it was discovered that he had spent months torturing his own family with the spell to see how much damage he could do before he 'went too far'." Aldwyn sighs, draining the rest of his hot chocolate to soothe his dry throat. He hadn't thought his question would turn into such a deep debate about the history of magic, but he was glad it had.
"So, because of a few deranged individuals, spells were classified as 'Evil' and banned?" Charlie adds, glancing from Marvolo to Aldwyn.
"Yes. It is the same for entire races of magical creatures. Vampires and Werewolves are discriminated against because of a few rogues who pray on muggles and magical beings for their own enjoyment. If people do not understand something, or they fear it then they try to control it as much as they are capable. This ranges from knowledge to magic and species. It is the workings of the world that we hope to change in the near future."
"Yes, that makes sense. We will help you out wherever we can, My Lord." Bill promises, bowing his head to Marvolo who smiles at the eldest brother.
"I will most definitely help. I hate how stigmatised worldviews are on Dragons and other magical creatures. It is unfair for wizards and witches to think that they are superior for no reason." Charlie agrees, slinging an arm around Bill's shoulder almost toppling them off the sofa. Aldwyn giggles.
"So, to conclude, the classification of 'Dark' and 'Light' has no correlation to whether someone is evil or good. A Dark Wizard, as the Ministry has defined recently refers to those who practice the Old Ways; families who celebrate Yule instead of Christmas, and Ostara instead of Easter. They refer to families, usually purebloods who follow the wheel of the year and its eight Sabbat holidays. However, what they fail to take into account is the individual's affinity. The true Dark Arts refer only to a branch of magic."
"Correct, Snakelet."
"Wow. I am seriously impressed, Aldwyn. You certainly have the intellect to completely dominate with your In Dolus Intortis, but then again, I shouldn't be surprised, you are the Dark Prince after all. Where was this knowledge last year? Ronald was always going on about putting off your homework and how you were both barely passing your classes." Bill's laughter tapers off into quiet chuckles when Aldwyn smirks in response.
"Yes, well I needed to put up a good front, a façade if you will because I went from poor, little abuse Freak who was unwanted by his only living blood relatives, whose parents died in a car crash to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of the wizarding world overnight. Before my eleventh birthday, I didn't even know magic even existed beyond muggle fairy tales. I had been constantly told that my accidental magic was just my freakishness ruining the muggles' 'perfectly normal' family. As soon as I found out that I was a wizard, I did the only thing I could do in order to survive. Everyone already had these preconceived notions of me according to Hagrid and the people I was mobbed by in the Leaky Cauldron. So, I pretended to be a dunce like your brother; persuaded the Hat to place me in Gryffindor, just like my 'perfect' parents, and did everything old Dumbles expected of his Golden Boy."
To say Bill and Charlie were shocked would be an understatement. This small child, who was the same age as their youngest brother had been through so much and yet still managed to retain a bright, if a little vindictive, spirit about him. They are surprised by how much Aldwyn had to hide, and how many masks he must have developed in order to keep himself safe in what everyone deems the safest place in Wizarding Britain. They had read letters depicting the Troll on Halloween, Harry's jinxed broomstick, the Three-headed dog Fluffy, and the DADA professor (who they now knew had been their Lord) attempting to harm if not kill Harry. The list went on and on and that had just been Aldwyn's first year. They dread to think what would have happened if Marvolo hadn't saved him.
They felt a sense of pride welling up in their chests as they think of Aldwyn and their chances of becoming some of his closest followers, members of the Dark Prince Cronus's own Elite faction within the Dark Sect. They stare in awe at Aldwyn knowing that Dumbledore and his side were going to be in deep trouble when Aldwyn jumps into the fight.
Before they can speak further about the Dark Arts, the doors to the study are thrown open once again allowing Severus to stride into the silent room, cloak billowing out behind him as he moves. He walks straight over to his partner and son, lips upturning into a loving smile as he drops a kiss on Aldwyn's forehead and a surprisingly passionate kiss on Marvolo's lips. Aldwyn scrunches his nose up at the blatant display of affection so close to him, but he can't help the grin stretching across his features. He doesn't mind when Severus settles himself on the arm of their chair, wrapping an arm around Marvolo's shoulders, while his hand rests against Aldwyn's back.
"I take it everything went well, my dear Sev?"
In answer to the Dark Lord's inquiry, Severus turns to smirk at the Weasley brothers, the expressions sending shivers down their spines. There was nothing nice about that look and it could only spell trouble for Dumbledore.
"I welcome Professor Charlie Weasley, overseer of the Care of Magical Creatures elective, and Professor Bill Weasley, teacher of History of Magic."
"Huh. I didn't think he would give us the jobs that easily." Bill considers, wondering just what the old fool must be thinking to allow both himself and his brother into the school without even an interview. Even if their parents were some of his most avid supporters.
"He seemed quite pleased with the idea of having two more professors under his control on the faculty. He mentioned upon my arrival how the Board of Governors contacted him with news of the impending exorcism of Professor Binns and he confessed himself startled. I, of course, agree with his theory that Lord Malfoy was plotting something untoward for the school and that he obviously used his money to convince his fellow governors. I also just happened to slip in that this would be the perfect opportunity to give the vacancy to someone with the same values. So, when he asked for my opinion, I just so happened to remember two of Molly and Arthur Weasley's sons enquiring about vacancies within the school."
Everyone cracks up at Severus's rendition. It was always nice to pull one over on the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts and if they thought about it he hadn't actually lied to Dumbledore. They did have the same values, just not with the headmaster. It would serve the old coot right for playing Merlin when his plans came crashing and burning at his feet once they were through with him. Albus-long-name-Dumbledore was going to be in for a rude awakening once their plans came to fruition but that wouldn't happen for a few years yet, much to the Dark Lord's chagrin.
"Wonderful, Love. You are conniving as you are beautiful, Severus. Now, I must show you what our son has been meticulously working on while you have been out."
Aldwyn runs through the corridors, awkwardly trying to pull on his dragonhide fingerless gloves while clutching his Nimbus 2000. His face splitting into a wide grin at the prospect of finally being able to play a friendly game of pickup Quidditch with Draco. Well, it was more a game of 'Who can catch the snitch first' seen as it was only the two of them playing.
Draco had arrived at the manor just a few minutes ago with his parents and had immediately demanded that Aldwyn go put on his Quidditch gear and meet him in the gardens where a full-sized Quidditch pitch was situated.
Lucius and Narcissa had quickly disappeared from the Floo room in search of his parents, apparently, they were going to iron out some of the plans for Harry Potter's disappearance as well as discuss a few ideas for Aldwyn and Draco's upcoming joint birthday party. His godparents had given themselves enough time to greet him and place a kiss on his cheek before they had hurried away, and Draco had accosted him. He had been so excited to play against Aldwyn that he was already decked out in his gear, waving a practice snitch above his head.
It is only a few minutes later that Aldwyn is skidding to a halt, placing his hands on his knees as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath. However, Draco doesn't waste a second. Quickly explaining the rules of their impromptu game, Aldwyn nods along showing that he is listening to his friend and that he understands the rules.
"Alright, so I am going to release the snitch and count to three. Both of us are going to push off at the same time and the first person to catch the snitch is the winner. Your father already told me that there are wards surrounding the grounds so that the snitch can't escape, and no muggles can see us flying around."
"Are you sure that you are going to be able to beat me, Draco? I was the youngest Seeker in the century and Gryffindor never lost a match while I was playing."
Draco sniffs, nose pointing skyward. He smirks at Aldwyn, lips threatening to upturn when Aldwyn returns the stance with one of his own, arms crossing over his chest as they stand off.
"I believe you need to prepare yourself Aldwyn. I have been trained on a broom since before I could walk so, I think that if anyone is going to win here it will be me. Don't feel too bad though."
"I won't as long as you don't pout when it is me grabbing the snitch right from under your nose."
Draco glares down at his friend, eye narrowing even as the corners of his mouth twitch when Aldwyn breaks into breathless chuckles his eyes shining with mirth. He stands to his full height, swinging a leg over his broom, and watches as the other opens his hand to release the Golden Snitch into the air. They watch as it zooms off, glittering in the afternoon sun before it completely vanishes. The boys glare competitively at each other.
"Are you ready, Slytherin?"
"Eat my dust, Malfoy!"
"One. Two. Three. Go!"
Aldwyn and Draco push off as hard as they can, zooming up into the sky as fast as they can push their brooms in order to cast their gazes across the entire pitch giving them better vantage points. Not for the first time, Aldwyn is glad that he doesn't need glasses anymore. He turns his attention to Draco, smirking when he sees his friend sitting idly on his broom, lazily scanning the air.
Becoming bored with simply hovering in the air, Aldwyn leans forward and urges his broomstick into a fast sprint, weaving through the air side-to-side as well as up and down, he grins as the wind wooshes past his ears. Keeping his eyes alert for any hints of the Snitch's location, Aldwyn begins to practice some of the manoeuvres he had been taught by Wood last year while he had been training for his first-ever quidditch match. He had always enjoyed the feeling of flying on his broom and not just while he had been playing quidditch either. The freeing feeling allowed him to release his pent-up frustration and stress throughout the year had become an addicting pastime for him.
A glint of gold flashes in his peripheral and Aldwyn's eyes zero in on the small flittering shape hovering a mere few feet in front of him. Glancing around his surroundings to see Draco still languidly flying around the pitch occasionally sweeping his eyes around, Aldwyn smirks. So much for his intense competition; sometimes Draco was too cocky for his own good.
Lying down on his broom, pressing his chest as flat against the wooden handle as possible, Aldwyn urges his broom into a brisk sprint. He whoops as his Nimbus zooms through the air, pushed to the max by his repeated insistence. He hears Draco's indignant yells as he hurriedly turns his broom in his direction and flies after him, but Aldwyn knows that his broom is not only better and faster than Draco's, but he is lighter and therefore could press himself into a seamless streamline figure allowing him to slice through the air, debilitating any resistance he may face.
He directs his broom with rapid precision making sure to keep in direct sight of the Golden Snitch which swerves through the air, taking a sharp right before flying straight up for a stretch. Aldwyn continues to trail behind the ball, glancing over his shoulder every now and again to make sure Draco wasn't gaining on him. Turning his attention back to the chase, Aldwyn has to direct his broom at a ninety-degree incline, flying higher and higher until the ground is a mere blur beneath him.
Just as he is about to give up and settle in to wait for it to come back down, the Snitch performs a sharp U-turn and begins to sail back down toward the ground. Its angle near impossible for Aldwyn to follow precisely as he turns on a knut and pushes his broom that much faster. He rolls out of the way of Draco who squeals in surprise at his rapid approach. His sharp shout is drowned out by the winds ripping past his ear as he flies toward the ground at a vertical incline.
His breath catches in his throat, hair flying around, violently whipping his cheeks, but Aldwyn pushes on, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance between himself and the allusive snitch. Stretching out his hand, arm shaking with exertion, Aldwyn mutters encouragements to his Nimbus practically begging for it to fly just that little bit faster as his fingers brush the edge of the ball. Aldwyn's eyes narrow, distorting everything in his vision bar the snitch.
Severus and Marvolo, along with Lucius and Narcissa who had concluded their business, walk out the back doors to watch their children and freeze in place when they catch sight of Aldwyn hurtling toward the ground at unimaginable speed. Marvolo's eyes flicker up to Draco who is flying down towards his son, one arm frantically waving as he shouts words that don't seem to reach Aldwyn at all. Severus gasps, one hand flying to his mouth while the other grasps blindly at Marvolo's as the ground closes in.
Aldwyn gives his broom one final push, smiling when he feels the familiar sensation of the cool metal against his exposed fingertips. Slamming his hand around the Golden Snitch, Aldwyn grips the end of his broom handle and pulls himself to a halt, the tips of his shoes barely brushing the grass as he hovers. His smile turns into a full-blown grin as he watches the practise snitch settle down in his hand and looks up waving his hand over his head to show Draco.
"Draco, I got it! I got the Snitch!"
"Aldwyn Salazar Slytherin!" The angered voice startles Aldwyn and he jumps from his broom. Spinning on his heels, Aldwyn is surprised to see his parents storming across the garden toward him. Their faces twisting in disapproving frowns, eyes alight with fury and Aldwyn can't help but shrink into himself. Had he done something wrong? Why were his parents so mad at him? Did they not want him to play Quidditch with Draco?"
He takes a couple of hasty steps backward trying to put some distance between himself and his father and papa as they continue to close the distance. Aldwyn fights against the burning in his eyes, biting his lip to stop it from trembling as his shoulders hunch up. Fingers slacken against his broom and the snitch, dropping them both to the ground as his knees begin to buckle. Aldwyn's mind goes blank, body quivering with fear.
"What on earth were you thinking young man? What in Merlin's name possessed you to perform such a dangerous stunt?"
He bows his head, hands twisting in the fabric of his quidditch robes. His tears spill over, trailing down his cheeks as he shakes his hair in front of his face to hide his expression from his father and papa. Crying had always gotten him in more trouble before. He sees a hand reaching for him from behind his hair and instinctively flinches out of reach, his hands flying up to cover his head as he collapses to the floor with a sob.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, I didn't mean to be bad. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise. I will be good. I'm sorry."
Severus and Marvolo stop, eyes widening in horror at the sight of their child curled up in a protective ball on the floor of their gardens. They watch for a second as Aldwyn sobs into his arms, knees bought up against his chest as his hands grip his hair in white knuckles. Guilt crashes over them. They had managed to terrify their son with their actions and raised voices. They had momentarily forgotten how Aldwyn reacted to sudden movements and loud noises, but they had just been so worried. So scared that he would hurt himself if he had pulled up a second too late.
They collapse to their knees in front of their quivering child, debating the best cause of action to take to calm him down and show him that they weren't going to hurt him. Taking a deep breath, Severus reaches out and hesitantly places a hand on Aldwyn's shoulder, ignoring the flinch he feels. The rest of his anger dissipates as he slowly draws his son against his chest, rocking him from side to side.
"Shhh. It is okay, Aldwyn. We are not going to hurt you. You know this Snakelet. Your father and I love you so much. We were just worried about you." Severus whispers, stroking a hand up and down Aldwyn's back.
Aldwyn wraps his trembling fists in Severus's robes, burying his face against the man's shoulder as he continues to shake with the force of his sobs. Marvolo is quick to wrap his arms around both his son and his partner, enclosing them in a warm embrace that serves to settle Aldwyn a little.
"Your papa is correct, Aldwyn. When we saw you flying at the ground like that, we were worried that you were going to get hurt and we were scared for you, Snakelet. I don't know what we would do if you were injured, my little one. We love you so much, Snakelet."
"You're not going to punish me?" Aldwyn whispers, hands tightening in Severus's robes, his shoulders tensing. His parents relax when his cries taper off, his breathing calming and they tighten their arms around him.
"No, we are not going to punish you, Snakelet. Nor are we going to hurt you. We are just glad that you are okay." Marvolo responds, voice cracking at the wavering in his son's tone, his heart clenches in his chest and he rests his head tiredly on Severus's shoulder. He didn't know how much more of this he could take without punishing those blasted muggles; his child was so broken, so fragile.
"Though if we ever see you putting yourself in harm's way like that again then I may just have to confiscate that broom, mister." Severus puts in, voice light as he drops a kiss on Aldwyn's head drawing a watery chuckle from the boy. Aldwyn knew full well that his papa was not joking about taking his broom away from him, but he wasn't going to complain. It wasn't as bad as the punishments he used to get. He just didn't understand why they were so worried about him. No one else had ever gotten scared that he was going to injure himself while he flew, and he had done that stunt in almost every game he had ever played in Hogwarts. None of his teammates, friends, classmates, or professors had told him off for potentially putting himself in danger. Heck, sometimes they had even encouraged it.
"I'm sorry, Papa, Father."
"We know, Snakelet. We just don't want you to get hurt."
"Why though? No one has ever cared before." Aldwyn's voice is insistent if a bit confused. He pulls his face from Severus's chest, cracking a weak smile when Marvolo hands him a white handkerchief to wipe his eyes and nose while Severus cards a hand through his hair gently detangling the knots caused by the whipping winds.
"Yes, well we care for you, Snakelet. You are our son; our precious little boy and we love you too much to see you being hurt when we can stop it."
"I love you too, Father, Papa. I promise that I will be more careful."
Marvolo and Severus tighten their arms around Aldwyn, tension bleeding away when Aldwyn cuddles into their embrace with a deep sigh, his breathing still stuttering a little from his sobs and near panic attack, but they would ensure that he was alright. Even if that meant staying with him for the rest of the day, they would prove to Aldwyn that he was deeply loved.
"That is all we ask, Aldwyn." Severus places another kiss on Aldwyn's forehead releasing a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when Marvolo's head resettles on his shoulder. Resting his head on top of Marvolo's, Severus is happy that he had been able to finally find a loving family of his own; Severus kisses Marvolo's hair. Their content embrace is cut short when Aldwyn pulls back, his face red and blotchy but stretched into a wide grin. He collapses back against Severus's chest, eyes roaming his surrounding before they shine with pleasure.
"I still caught the Snitch."
Marvolo and Severus follow Aldwyn's stare and chuckle when they see the Snitch lying next to their son's broom on the ground. Draco stands just beyond, a scowl down turning his mouth, arms folded in front of his chest.
"Yes, well I didn't want to risk becoming a pancake on the floor, so I let you win."
"Uh-huh, sure you did, Draco. Whatever helps you sleep at night. I won because I am simply the better Seeker, and you know it."
"I know no such thing, but on a completely unrelated note, you are going to try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team when we go back to school, right? We would win with no problems with you as our seeker. I mean I was going to try out, but I think I would be better as a chaser anyway."
"We don't even know that I am going to be in Slytherin yet, Draco." Aldwyn laughs at his friend, cheeks flushing in pleasure from the veiled compliment.
"You are kidding, right?" Draco scoffs." You are like, the most Slytherin Slytherin I have ever met, and I know Uncle Severus. You are the Heir of Slytherin for crying out loud. It would be a travesty if you were sorted anywhere else!"
Aldwyn smirks for a moment before forcing his lips into a frown. He furrows his eyebrows, as he glances down at his lap despondently. His voice is timid, quivering with hesitance.
"Will you stop being my friend if I am not sorted into Slytherin?" Draco freezes, mouth hanging open as he stares down at Aldwyn before he begins to fumble and stutter over his words, hands waving in front of his face, cheeks glowing red.
"Don't be stupid, Aldwyn. You will always be my friend, even if you end up in… Gryffindor…"
Aldwyn almost laughs at the absolute disgust shaping Draco's features at the thought of him being sorted into Gryffindor, going so far as to shiver. He glances up at his parents, biting his lip to keep his chuckles at bay, and he opens his eyes wide.
"You two will still love me if I was sorted into a different house, wouldn't you?"
"That is a silly question, Snakelet. Your papa and I will love you no matter what house you are sorted into, it doesn't change who you are. You will still be our Snakelet."
"Even if I end up in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?"
"Even then, Snakelet."