A/N: It was meant to be a one-shot but AbeoUmbra challenged me to write Lord Voldemort’s point of view. At first I thought it would be easy, but when I sat down to write it, it was hard. Voldemort is a very hard character to write-- his mind and thoughts are so… hard to put down. It’s not the dark aspect that I find hard to write, its just he’s… meant to be brilliant and he doesn’t have any feelings. It is easier to do him when it’s a short section, but a complete little story like this was hard. Egh.

Either way, I still like Harrison’s point of view better than this one. Let me know what you think.

My Slytherin Descendant

The wand slowly moved over my face once more, but I held my tongue. The Healer was only doing his job. Rather slowly, granted, but it was necessary. Alas, if there was a problem with me, I knew the man wouldn’t have any idea what to do. After all, I am my own Healer.

“That will be all,” I stood up, causing him to fall on his arse. I barely even looked his way as I glanced at my appearance. It was hideous, but I was the Dark Lord- there was no reason to be pretty.

“Yes My Lord, of course.” The man awkwardly crawled to his knees and touched his nose to the floor in a bow. Submission, good. It’s the least I deserve for being reborn from a cauldron. My servants, if they even deserved that title, were completely undedicated. A true servant of mine would have completed my rising at a much earlier date. Surprisingly it was Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr. who completed my ritual. Pity Crouch was useless now.

It was time. I could feel them all in the next room, just waiting to follow me into the war like blinded fools. Hide behind me like a shield. It is I who will be using them; after all, I am the Dark Lord.

Abnormally long fingers caressed my wand. It’s good to have a body now, to finally complete my dreams of the wizarding world. Dumbledore and Longbottom won’t stop me. No, they will be at my feet, screaming, in a matter of days. That is my vow.

I throw open the door and witness all of them staring at me like the useless fools that they were. I could feel the awe at my power but I could also feel the fear and intimidation at my features. Unguarded minds filtered across my searching eyes, but I didn’t stop to read any of them. It was a waste of time.

“My followers,” I whispered and noted the husky tone it sounded as. Waving a hand in dismissal, I continued. “We are finally together once again and we will rise to power just as I have tonight. Longbottom might’ve gotten away from me, but he will not get away next time. Together we will bring the wizarding world where it was meant to be.” It was all true. Longbottom was lucky to crawl away unscratched, but next time would be hell for the boy.

I see a woman, wearing a rather unfitting smile, trot over to me and stand at my left. Immediately my memories grace me with the vision of a night fourteen years ago. Ah, this was Bellatrix Black, a woman I had fucked long ago. A useful servant, rather too eager, but nonetheless- she came from a long line of dark purebloods. My eyes nonchalantly search the crowd for a child that she could have given birth to. I was not present when she delivered but I do remember finding out she was pregnant.

There. A boy, how quaint. At least it wasn’t a pathetic female. The child looked strikingly like Salazar Slytherin, right down to that arrogant smirk he was wearing. My eyes narrow. We will see…

I turn my attention back toward the crowd and realize I still needed to dismiss them. “It has been a long day, my followers. I must retire and so must you. I would like for you to keep my rise to power secret on my behalf. Let me gather my strength and we will strike with full force.” Yes, it was true, I wasn’t at full strength and my mind wasn’t as clear as I would’ve liked it to be.

My servants all bowed low in submission and I bathed in the sight. After long years of studying and following along painful paths, I have finally gotten what I deserve. An army, followers, power.

I turn my heel and disappear into my chambers again. I can feel the Black woman follow at my heels and I slammed the door in her face. Sadistic pleasure ran through me. I’m not very tired at the moment, and I don’t feel like sitting down to plan anything as of yet- so I decide to take a breath of fresh, cemetery air. Before I open the door, I check to hear if there was any more Death Eaters out- no. But there were two bodies, and I knew exactly who they were.

“Leave me, I will be back shortly.” I pass the two who had taken residence on the ground next to my door and exited the small house. The night air stung at my face and I closed my eyes at the feel. I have always enjoyed the night; it embraces me with darkness and gives me solitude. Of course, I never let my guard down… so I felt the aura.

My crimson eyes snap open and they sought the graveyard down below me. There were two figures standing close to one another, one tall and the other rather petite. It was the small one’s aura that I was attracted to- it seemed familiar… an odd familiarity that I have never remembered witnessing before.

I start to make my way down the hill toward the two. I have right to invade on their privacy; they are my Death Eater’s after all. As I advance my way down, I see the smaller one notice my approach and the taller one following suit. Tempted to curse them both to the ground, I watch them instead as they part ways; one out of the wards and the other across the grounds to the caretakers shack. Interesting.

My eyes are automatically locked onto the familiar aura, I want to get close- I will get close.

But for now, I will let him feel false comfort.

--Slytherin--

I am at peace. The crystal wine goblet I hold in my fingers is full to the rim with crimson wine. A dead body is at my feet, the Healer. His blank eyes look up at me and I smile back down at him in pleasure. Nothing can be better, but alas, there is a major flaw to my tranquility.

“Isn’t he just wonderful, My Lord?” I am forced to sit still and listen to the Black bitch drown on about her son, our offspring. That thought makes me sneer in disgust. How could I possible think I would be able to produce a good heir with this woman?

My eyes were currently fixated on the boy, what’s his name? Ah, yes, Nathanial. Or was it Damon? No matter, it wasn’t an important issue.

The boy was dueling with the Malfoy heir. For my entertainment, I gather. The duel was far from entertaining, it was pure lackluster. A bore. The two were dreadfully inexperienced, but alas; the Black bitch’s son knew a few curses and spells to make it bearable. He wasn’t too bad, but he just didn’t have that power that leaked.He had to force himself to the breaking point to get his power out. It was so unlike me. Perhaps with time I can train him to become better.

But even I knew that someone can’t expand their natural power.

The question was; did I really want to bear the rest of my power with the boy and his mother? Was it worth the painful migraine that sprouted in my temple every time Black opened her mouth? Or when the boy spoke with a raised, arrogant, irritating, tone?

“He needs work.” I respond and sip at the wine. The liquid burns down my throat and I close my eyes to the painful sight in front of me. I keep my features blank as I hear a boastful laugh coming from the boy. Apparently he just disarmed the Malfoy brat.

Bellatrix remained silent, finally. Perhaps putting a dent to Damon’s pride also put a dent in her ego. I would keep that knowledge stored away.

“Of course, My Lord, but he’s only fourteen, hardly of age. There is plenty of time to train him into a worthy heir.” She was insulted that I would criticize the training she put the boy through when I was gone. I knew she was looking for praise on her good job rather then slighting it. I was tempted to discipline her on her sharp tongue. “But, at least he turned out better then the other one.”

I leave my eyes closed and respond in a bored tone. “The other one?”

“Yes My Lord.” Her voice took on a fevered pitch. Apparently she was rather excited to tell me of this issue. Legilimency was the better route than listening to her voice, but I was too relaxed to look into her mind. “We had twins.”

My stomach clenched in disgust at her statement; twins, what a pathetic result. They were useless, I despised twins. Just thinking of another Damon made my head throb more heavily. “Is that so?” Pure disgust made its way across my barriers.

She laughed and I cringed mentally. “Yes, but luckily they are fraternal twins- they are nothing alike. Of course, when I say nothing alike, I mean that the other… one is a squib. Nasty bronze hair… and eyes so green they look pathetic. He’s a runt- absolutely useless-,” She went on to ridicule the other’s appearance, but I was absorbing her first statement.

A Squib? I highly doubt that. I would never conceive a Squib, it was impossible. A Slytherin descendant would never turn out Squib. But then I think of my mother. I never met her, but I know through my uncle’s memories that she was a worthless witch. Perhaps her characteristics rubbed off the other boy. He wouldn’t be a Squib, just weak- pathetic. Just thinking of another worthless conceived child made me want to kill Bellatrix- her eggs were probably already twisted due to all the interbreeding the Black family participated in.

“Yes, he is a rather worthless Squib.” A new voice interrupted my internal struggle to grasp the fact that I had a Squib living in my manor. My eyes slowly open to see the Black’s son lounged on the step by my feet. His black eyes were sparkling madly. That damned smirk on his face irritated me. He should never be this arrogant around me.

“Where is he?” I ask. “You haven’t killed him off yet without my permission, have you?” Bellatrix’s face paled at my dangerous hiss and dark pleasure swept through me. This is how it should be.

“No, My Lord, of course not. He’s residing in the old caretaker’s shack.” I pause at the information, my mind creating a picture of the earlier night; the small figuring with the familiar aura entering the shack. Could it be?

I stood up, eagerly wanting to get rid of the company and also wanting to put together my first puzzle presented to me since my rebirth. “Where are you going, My Lord?” Bellatrix screeched and I sneer heavily. She was a useful follower to have, but if this continued on any longer, I would be very happy to kill her. Slowly.

“The next time you demand something of me, you will never be able to ask again. Do you understand?” I turn back toward them. An irritated hand waves and I continue on my way. “Go make yourselves useful. Now.” They scrambled to their feet, all but the boy. I can feel his suspicious eyes on my back.

--Slytherin--

It is pathetic here. I can see thick layers of dust where footsteps hadn’t disturbed the floor. Against the floorboards there were spiders making nests, on the walls there was water trails from the holes in the ceiling. A draft of cold air created a hollowing noise that pierced my sensitive hearing. Is this were my son resided?

My curiosity is burning in my chest, just tasting the claim of victory as I uncover the mysterious boy. Of course, I will have to do this a Slytherin way. The boy won’t know I will be here.

I pass a window and study my reflection, or rather lack of. It’s a simple illusion- completed with a silencing charm covering my body. The boy won’t know I’m here; no one would be able to know. My aura is toned down to nothing- just in case this puzzle would detect auras. I rather doubt it. Only I can detect auras, I find it rather doubtful if Bellatrix created a boy with aura reading. After all, Damon and this… riddle were twins.

The floorboards would be creaking as I step on them, but alas, I make them stay still. My weight leans on the floor as I take another step and I freeze as I hear a solid screech. Impossible, I-,

A sick smile spread across my lips as I look to my right were the library was placed. And I seethe puzzle. I see the back of the other twin. His small shoulders are hunched over a table and a low burning candle dances next to him. He appears to be studying.

I make my way closer, right behind him, and I close my eyes to inhale him, his aura, his everything. He is no Squib, he’s mine. I can tell right away that he is no fraud; he is the true Slytherin Heir. The scent is plastered all over him; the pure darkness surrounds him and plays with my senses. Crazy desires rush through me but I calm myself. I need patience, something I find hard to grasp at times- but this is important, I must observe first.

I move away from his back and make my way to the front of him, to study every inch of him. His cloak is tattered and worn, but that’s the farthest thing I need to think of at the moment. I do notice his appearance though, and it surprises me how much the boy looks like my younger self. It’s as if I’m looking into a mirror from the past. Everything from the sharp cheekbones and pronounced handsome features are mine. Alas, he does not have jet black hair; instead he has bronze, my mother’s hair color. And his frame is much smaller than mine, he appears to be starved.

Hungrily, I watch him for what seems like hours, but I know it is only seconds. But seconds are forever to me. I have never been taken by another like I am now. I watch his habits and his teeth nibbling his bottom lip as he frowns into the text. A deep sigh escapes his rather plump lips and his eyes rise to lock with mine. I’m barely a hair away from his face and I become completely captivated by his eyes… my eyes. They are mine, were mine. The vivid green isn’t what makes me think of my own, it’s the dark shadows in them- the wisdom they hold for someone so young.

He has experienced pain and life. He knows what manipulation is, what abuse is, he knows that people are just fragmented objects that you cannot trust- he has experienced hell.

I want to reach out and run a finger down that cheek, but I resist. After all, I wouldn’t want to give away my position. I want to be able to drink as much as I can of him when he doesn’t realize it.

“Master, he’s coming.” My eyes narrow as the snake slithers on the boy’s desk. Snakes can see through me, I know, but must they ruin my fun?

The boy tenses and its then when I realize the snake wasn’t talking to me, but the boy, my boy. My son was a Parselmouth. Pride swept through me, he was a true Slytherin. I know my weakness is to take possession of things completely if they interest me- to take trophies, and it’s the same with my heir. I want him to be mine, only mine, and I know that will cause my downfall someday if I don’t dance smartly.

My thoughts are turned toward the boy as he hurriedly packs his notes away and puts them in his pockets. “Hurry!”The snake hisses and my heir waves his wand and the books lying on the table fly back to their spots on the dusty shelves. The room plunges in complete darkness as the candle goes out, but I can clearly see. My eyes followed my son as he quickly walked across the room, being careful and stepping on the floorboards that he knew wouldn’t creak. Just as he ducked around the corner, I see a dark shadow enter the room.

“Harrison.” A voice sings and I sneer. It’s her son. Oh, he will pay for ruining my fun.

Harrison. That’s my puzzle’s name, but he in no longer a puzzle in my eyes, because he is just like me.

“I know you’re here.” Jealousy spread across the boy’s voice and I knew he was expecting to see me here talking with Harrison.

I make my way out the room, past her son and leave him there- in the dark.

--Slytherin--

Now that I’m not drugged on my heir’s aura and presence, I can think clearly. I want him beside me, standing with me as we go against the fools. We will conquer them all and on the way, we will make the wizarding world stronger… destroy it and we will build it from the ashes. Citizens will cower at our feet.

I know that I could do it by myself along with my Death Eaters, but I want someone beside me. Someone to pass down my knowledge and someone I can trust completely. Trust was such an issue with me, considering the fact that I smell all the lies around me. I know there is someone within my inner circle spilling out my secrets- there is a traitor. Traitors may be worthless scum, but they are dangerous. I don’t know whom it is, but I will find out.

I need to protect my plans until I catch the traitor. And I need to protect my true heir. Harrison would be in danger if the traitor found out about my real interest in the boy. Manipulation was the name of the game now, and I was the master of deception. There would be deaths, but all the necessary ones- I will not feel pity if they come to play. Death is such a beautiful thing in my eyes- that is why I want to torture the traitor. Death is something I grant when I feel merciful.

--Slytherin--

I’ve been watching him for days now. Every night, after my meetings with the Death Eaters, I come down to the broken shack and watch my heir. I am proud of his magical aura but I am also furious. Why? Simply because I have found out what his plans are. He wants to use the Dark Descendant ritual, a dangerous ritual that erases one’s true parental traits. If he does this, he will no longer have a Slytherin claim, he might think he will, but if he denounces me, he will become merely a muggle- and I will have no sense of claim on him.

Why does he have to be so foolish? He’s stubborn and proud, that much I know- but he’s also impatient, a trait he inherited from me. If he would just wait and sit tight, he will find out that I am only distancing myself from him for his own safety. I don’t want her son, I want him.

Perhaps, I should give him something to think about? To pause and sit tight for a few more days until my trap closes its jaws around the traitor’s ankle.

I nod toward the serpent and it uncoils from around my wrist. My faithful little creature slowly twined its body up the leg of the table and hissed its warning. “He watching you.” I watched as my heir remained stoic. “I said he’s watching you.” The serpent slid the rest of the way on the table and shot out a forked tongue to caress Harrison’s nose. “Again.”

“Leave me the bloody hell alone!” It’s the first time I have ever heard him speak. His voice is raw and husky from the lack of use.

“Language.” I drop my illusion and remain stoic as my heir whirls around. He seems shocked but then recovers quickly as he shuts his book and lands on his knees in a bow. I survey his outfit with a sneer upon my thin lips. He looks like a damned muggle.

“My lord, I didn’t know you were here.” I allow my magic to caress him; after all, I can’t help but to feel competitive when I feel his own aura. His statement registers in my mind and I smirk. Silly boy, you would’ve never known.

“Of course you didn’t.” I allow my thoughts to come out in my speech. “Just as you didn’t for the past week.” I know he’s frightened and confused, but I don’t care. What matters is that I am talking to my heir finally.

“I feel like a fool.”

“Don’t. If I wanted to be hidden, no one would know I was here. I chose to reveal myself to you tonight.” The confusion overwhelmed me and I couldn’t stand seeing the bowed figure on the floor any longer. “Rise, Harrison.” It surprises me how gentle my tone is, but the more I think on it, the more I realize I shouldn’t be a bastard toward my own heir.

I watch him raise his head in suspicion. “You know me?” Oh, my dear boy, of course I know you.

I want a better look at him. I snap my fingers, causing the room to alight but he lowers his head as if shamed of his appearance. Harrison, my sweet heir… “Bellatrix has told me many things about you.” I stood up from my chair and walked toward Harrison’s hunched over position. I can almost feel the different scenarios flying through his head right now. How much had Bellatrix told me- you want to know? “Come, sit with me. We have much to discuss.” I walk back toward the two seated couch and sat down. My eyes are nonchalant as I see him rise hesitantly and sit far from me, with his head bowed.

I suppress a sigh. Bellatrix’s abuse may not have been physical but it was mentally. I would have a lot of work on my hands to create a strong, confidant, heir. Alas, I know there is confidence hidden deep down in the boy’s petite body- I just have to lure it out.

“She’s told you?” His voice is void and completely emotionless. I mentally applaud at that. He doesn’t hold fear toward me, which is a step in the right direction.

“Look up at me.” There, I finally show my true side to the boy as my voice came out commanding. He immediately raised his head and I was met with those beautiful green eyes. “She’s told me countless of things about you, but I still don’t know anything about you.” I finally sucked up my own courage to reach out my skeleton hand and touch him, but he reared back as if stung. I continue on as if he didn’t just sting my pride.

“She told me about your green eyes and odd appearance.” I allow my true emotions to wash through my face and he studies it with thoughtfulness. It is simply pleasure and desire, but he acts as if it were the most alien emotion he had ever seen. I began to second guess my approach to him. “I bet while she cursed your appearance, she never told you that I had the same green eyes when I was younger, or my dear mother had your color hair.”

I know he hungers for words like this, correct? I was the same when I was younger, I always hoped for a father figure to step in my life and claim me. But that never happened. Now I use that on Harrison and I know it works. I see his face become clear again and I utter the finalizing sentence that would hook him in.

“You look strikingly like me when I was younger.”

“I was under the impression you hated the memory of your mother.” His voice is bitter, not the reaction I was expecting. He’s right though, I hate my mother- such a weak thing.

“No.” I pause. Apparently Harrison isn’t the exact person as I thought him to be. What a fool I’ve been for thinking the boy would look up at me with admiration and acceptance just because I claimed he looked like me. “I don’t.” My hand twitched toward him again but I kept myself at bay. All I wanted to do was take hold of the boy and tell him the truth. That he was my heir, not the other one.

Now it was time for a different tactic. “But let’s not talk of appearances- such a trivial thing. What I’m most interested in, is exactly why Bellatrix claimed you as a Squib when you are clearly casting spells well advanced for your age by night?”

I watch as he stands up away from me and I have to calm myself down. No use punishing the boy yet. “Don’t pretend you care.” He hissed at me and I suppressed a smirk. “I know you; you have no desire to be a father or anything of the sort.” I just watch him in amusement. “You’re supposed to be cruel and stone hearted.” His heated tone tapers off and with that I become rather out of sorts. Harrison isn’t someone I can play with, I should’ve realized that when I noticed his eyes- the hardships in them.

“You have no idea what I’m like, Harrison. You only know what Bellatrix has told you. And from experience, you should know that her word isn’t always the truth. True, I am a cold-hearted bastard to others, but when it comes to my son I would like to be lenient with him.” I said truthfully and stood up. Sick pleasure laced through my being when I noticed how much I towered over him.

And then I struck out. He wasn’t expecting this and quite frankly, either was I. I slammed him against the stone wall and grabbed his delicate chin in my hand. That is the first time, in a long time, since I have touched skin… and it wasn’t just any skin, it was my sons. I bent my head down to make sure his eyes were level with mine. I need to get my points across. “If you even dare to try the Dark Descendant ritual, I’ll cut off both your hands and kill Severus. Do you understand me?” And my threat was absolutely true and not boastful.

His eyes widened but then he turned back to the stoic child I was used to seeing. “Yes…”

Not in the least bit satisfied at his answer, I turn my heel and leave anyway. I can feel my son’s gaze drilling a hole in my back.

--Slytherin--

Its time to plan this. It is time for it to unravel. I want my son on my side, now.

“You will of course be named Heir, Damon.” My voice is completely void and so is my face when Black laughs manically. Her hands pat her son’s arms generously while the boy smirks knowingly. “Yes, we will be announcing this at dinner tonight with my inner circle, I expect you keep it quiet until then, understood?” He nods and I stand up.

“Of course, father.” I pause at this- it’s disgusting. Out of the boy’s lips its nothing I ever want to hear again- but- I can vividly see my son standing there, green eyes looking up at me and saying ‘father’. It does not bother me. “Will Draco be invited? He’s my best mate.”

“There is no such thing as friends, boy.” I snap and make my way down my raised throne. I need to get this over with, I cannot stand this. Within seconds these two would be dead, but alas, I needed them in order to reveal the traitor. I hope its Snape; in fact, it does not matter if it is the man or not- I will kill him anyway for becoming involved with my heir. I’m curious to know how Harrison will react when he learns of Snape’s death.

“I… I understand father.” I stop and whirl around to look down at the boy. Such a disgusting creature.

“It’s My Lord, to you.” My hand reaches out to squeeze the boy’s cheeks together. His skin isn’t cold like Harrison’s yet it’s flushed and full of life. Pathetic. “We need to work on your verbal responses. Not only that, we need to improve your dueling skills- they are pitiable.” My hand drops like it’s full of venom.

I whirl around and cross the grounds to my son.

--Slytherin--

He isn’t in the library when I arrive so I’m forced to go look for him. It’s not long before I find his pathetic excuse for a room. He’s reading- the same book I ordered him to stay away from. “Come, I want you to move your bedroom over to my main manor.” He slams the book shut and looks up at me in boredom. Mind you, it’s the first time anyone has looked at me in such a way. After all, I am the Dark Lord.

“Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy my bedroom. It’s private.” I ignore him. He will be moved whether he will like it or not. I turn my heel, knowing he will follow.

How wrong I was. I turn my head to see him still upon his bed, clutching the book close. Why was it always ordeal with Harrison?

“Come.” I pulled out my wand and jerked it toward my son. I couldn’t help that same sick pleasure I felt earlier seep through me as I pulled him across the floor. I was in control now. And I loved it. “Get up.” I hissed, motioning my wand upward, causing Harrison to get on his knees.

“I don’t want to go.” He bares his teeth like the Slytherin heir he was, but I smirk- not in the least bit intimidated.

“Come, my pet.” I yanked the invisible leash harder and his book soars out of his arms and lands at my feet. I resist the urge to set it on fire, that damned book is the reason why he’s resisting me so much.

I down up at him, only to falter. His aura was singing louder than it had ever before and his eyes seemed to glow. In seconds the book at my feet was back in his hands, my spell was cancelled around his neck, and I was pushed backwards. How dare that little brat? Push me?

I study him through hooded eyes, yet I cannot help but to swell in yearning. My feet never make a sound as I come closer to my son. His face was flushed and his breathing became ragged. His green eyes were looking up at me with pure determination. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean my lipless mouth close to his ear. “Squib… I’m sure you bloody well are.” I whispered and my nose inhaled the scent of him. He was mine.

I step back, tearing myself away from my own carbon copy. “Come with me, Harrison. Now.” I am tired of this game I am dancing around. I want Harrison now and I want her son out of the picture. I know he’s following me, so I don’t bother to turn around and become captivated with those eyes.

“Why am I moving?” He asks me, and I motion toward the boy’s room and a house elf starts to pack his things. We make our way out of the old shack and out to the crisp grounds.

I look at him this time and control myself when his eyes sought my own. He was always so stoic and curious. “Multiple of reasons; one, you are my son- you deserve a nicer room than this, two, I get rather tired of crossing the grounds just to check up on you, and three, I want you to be close when I chose the heir.”

“You mean Damon.” I look at him and see him become tense and bitter. Oh, my heir…

“Who ever says I can’t choose you?” I try to give him a hint, to make him see he is the Slytherin heir. Why does he not understand he’s better then his brother? Perhaps Bellatrix ruined him more than I thought? But alas, I can fix that broken poise.

My eyes look at the book he’s holding like a lifeline. It will do no good to take it away from him. It wouldn’t make a difference, considering I have watched him take many notes on the ritual- I’m sure he has it stored in that confused mind of his.

We get closer to the manor and I turn to look at his quiet form. “Pull your hood up.” I wave my hand in his direction, placing a disillusionment charm over him- without his knowledge. I turn back around and don’t spare another glance in his direction. The Death Eater’s don’t notice him as we pass and I am pleased at that. My heir will be safe for the time being.

--Slytherin--

I am completely in my role. My smirk is secretive, my hands are playing with the stem of my wine glass, and my eyes are taking in everyone at the table. Everyone. Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, Severus Snape, Damon Black, Peter Pettigrew, and of course my son, Harrison Riddle. They all appear perfectly calm now, but I know one of them is the traitor, all but Harrison of course. I’m watching him for an entirely different reason.

He seems to be rather irritated at being here, I can’t blame him. I would never hold a dinner with people if it were any other occasion. But something else was bothering him, and I wanted to know what it was. His eyes seemed distant and he sat completely still. He was going to do something desperate; I had to keep my eye on him.

I stood up, and brought everyone’s attention on me. As it should be. “Thank you for coming, Lucius, Severus, Draco, and Peter.” I nod to them and they nod respectively back at me. “It’s been a long time since we have seen the future of the wizarding world upon the horizon, but it’s closer now. Within our grasp. Soon we will have the world at our feet; we will build our world back to where it belongs. But I wish to have a successor beside me, and so I wish to congratulate Damon as my Dark Heir.” There were polite claps after my statement but my eyes were directly on my son.

Harrison was sitting still, his face not moving any inch- save for his hands which were clapping along with the rest of them. He was numb and hurt, I knew that. But this was for his own good because come tomorrow, I knew Damon would be dead- if the places were reversed and I did name my true heir, I would be looking at the dead face of Harrison. Of course, if I wanted to stop the murder of Damon, I could- but I didn’t feel the need to keep the boy around.

Pettigrew leaned over to whisper something in Harrison’s ear and they both smirked. I didn’t know what that worthless rat had to say to my heir in order for him to crack a smirk; Harrison never showed any emotion like that around me. Lucius is engaging me in a conversation, but I’m not listening to him. Instead, my eyes watch him intentionally. He’s off in his own world again, staring at his damned spoon. What could be interesting in his own reflection?

The food appears and Harrison seems startled over such a feat. Perhaps the boy had never been at a formal dinner? “Look at him, startled by magic.” The Malfoy brat whispers across to Black’s son.

The boy smirks and murmurs, “Worthless Squib.” I watch as Harrison clenches his fists and narrows his eyes dangerously at the boy. I find it amusing that Harrison inherited my temper because the next thing that I notice is that Harrison is magically choking Damon. The guests all think that Damon is choking on a piece of steak but I know better- and the boy is foolish. How could he? He is putting himself in the spotlight. What if they found out he wasn’t a Squib?

I hissed, staring intentionally at him. As I suspected it ruined his concentration but he never looked at me. His eyes were locked on Damon’s and he reached smartly for his goblet of wine. “Worthless…” He purred. “The Dark heir can’t even chew his food.” He took a sip and looked over the rim at Damon- it was purely mocking.

I look at him then and I see a future Dark Lord. But from his actions I sense jealousy. He’s jealous of Damon that he was named heir. I mean something then, despite the fact that Harrison seemed completely unfazed at my attention in the library that night- he does crave me, my attention. And that’s something I find absolutely exhilarating.

Black’s son because red in the face. I know he will try to invoke Harrison again, so I interrupt. “Enough.”

I take my wine goblet to sip on the soothing liquid. As I look over the brim, I spot Harrison share a knowing look with Snape. And then I see a true smile spread across my son’s face. It’s not directed at me. No, it’s directed toward Snape. A Death Eater.

Raw jealousy flushes through my system and my fingers clench around the goblet. All my mind comes up with is the multiple ways Severus Snape can die. I’m so wrapped up in my inner turmoil that I don’t notice my son’s eyes land on me.

--Slytherin--

They’re all talking around me, cheerfully, mind you. My migraine is slowly starting to take over my thinking and I sit there calmly in my chair. My face if void, my eyes are void, but my thoughts are twirling every direction. I want this to be over with, this whole dinner thing. My followers think this is a new development ever since I came back from the spirit world- me, having parties with my servants… what in Merlin’s name do they take me as? They are my servants not my comrades. They will be at my feet; withering in pain the next time they crack a joke in my presence. This will all be over shortly- and in the end, I will have Harrison completely in my possession, the traitor gone and surely Severus Snape will be ten feet under.

I’m not too sure how many glasses of wine I have had, but it helps numb the pain of the other’s presence. Alcohol doesn’t affect me much, so I don’t worry about not being coherent in order to follow out my plans. In fact, I already know who the traitor is. Peter Pettigrew. I watched him nonchalantly pour poison in Damon’s drink. No one ever watches him; no one would ever catch him- except for me.

I know I could’ve prevented Damon from raising his goblet and drinking the poison, but instead, I watched gleefully. The child would be dead before the morning.

Now I was watching my heir out of the corner of my eye. I watched for Peter’s wondering fingers as he inched closer to Harrison, but he didn’t put anything in my son’s drink or food. I’m also watching Severus converse with him… they’re planning something. I can see my heir’s shoulder’s perk up and his mouth is mumbling softly to the potions master. It had better not be what I think it is.

I stand up and brush past the guests toward my son. A house elf is offering the boy another drink but before the child gets a chance to reach out to grab it- my hand encircles his wrist. His eyes look up at me and I falter, they are no longer green but an ugly yellow. “I think you have had enough tonight, go to bed.” It came out harshly and I had to grab the boy’s chin to bring him closer to me. “Change those hideous eyes.”

“Get your hands off me.” He hisses and I become aroused hearing my native tongue being used by my son. “You are not my father, nor my Lord.” The words shouldn’t affect me in the least, but they do. After Harrison leaves, I look up at Snape and give him a sneer. He blanches and tries to turn out the room but I shot out my hand and grip his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing with my son, but it will stop. If you even think of turning him against me, you will be killed.” My yellow nails are digging into his skin but he’s being a good Slytherin and pretends he doesn’t feel it. But my warning is true; I just hope he realizes it.

He gives a sharp nod. “Yes My Lord.”

“I don’t think you do understand.” I whisper huskily. “He is mine. Not yours.” His eyes dig into my gaze and I hold him there.

When he leaves the room, I stand there. I don’t like feeling these emotions. Possession and jealousy. I don’t like feeling any emotions, but I understand that I have an heir now and I need to treat him decently. And with that comes humane emotions. But Harrison isn’t at all like a child of fourteen is supposed to be. No, he has a tough exterior but I know, inside, he craves me just as much as I crave him.

--Slytherin--

“Please My Lord, I don’t understand…” Pettigrew whimpered pathetically.

I’m at peace right now.

Everyone is gone.

I’m sitting upon my solid throne.

The Black bitch’s son is lying dead on the floor.

And I don’t have any feelings.

In my right hand lays my wand and my fingers caress it gently. My gaze is completely locked on the rat in front of me. Apparently he doesn’t understand… well, I will just have to show him, won’t I? “Look to your right. Tell me…” I purr, narrowing my eyes. “What do you see?”

The sniveling fool twitches as his eyes land on the still form of Damon Black. He made a pathetic noise in his throat and I loose my cool mask. “What do you see?” I snap, pointing my wand at him.

His eyes bulge at seeing the wand. “I… I… it’s your heir, My Lord. He’s dead.”

“Really?” I make a show of looking over at the body. “How can that be, Pettigrew?” He shakes his head heatedly. “How can that be my heir when it looks nothing like him?” Pettigrew stills and looks uncertainly over at the dead body. My smirk grows larger. “You see, Peter, that is not my heir. Harrison is my true heir.”

“W-what?”

Tisking, I wave my wand at the fool. “Crucio.” The screams are music to me, they bring me alive. “I’m afraid you’ve killed the wrong Slytherin, Pettigrew.” He whimpers in between gasps of air and then screams again. Oh, now this is art. I can just see his veins and arteries bulging with pressure- my, wouldn’t it be pretty if one burst?

“My Lord!” A snake slithers inside the room but it doesn’t ruin my concentration… what will break first; the rat’s mind or his veins? “My Lord, your hatchling is out of the manor! He went against your wishes.” And that shattered my focus. Apparently I broke before the man at my feet. How pathetic.

But I do not have time to dwell on the fact. Before long I’m essentially running toward the exit. “Bite him.” I hiss over my shoulder. Even if Pettigrew finds the strength to get away, he will not go long with my serpent’s venom inside his body. And that brings satisfaction to me.

Alas, I am not satisfied at the moment. My heir is stubborn and foolish. How does he think he can complete this ritual? It won’t happen. Because I won’t let it.

The cool air rushes past me as I sprint toward the graveyard, I can see them. My son is on the ground- surrounded by the ruins and Snape is standing off to the side. And then I see Harrison tip his head back to drink the potion that binds him to the Descendants from below. I don’t understand what it is about Harrison, but I want him. I want him beside me… and at that moment, I didn’t care what I looked like or if anyone saw me-

But I roar.

And then I desperately point my wand at the distant figures. Through my hazy vision, I watch as Snape turns his heel and runs away. Bringing my wand down like an ax, the Avada Kedavra jets out and embraces Snape like a second skin. I don’t dwell too long on this because I hear Harrison denounce Bellatrix. Successfully.

I throw a stunner straight at him, but he bends over in pain as the ritual magic runs through him and the spell misses completely. His glowing yellow eyes look up at me then and I come to stop. Never before has shock paralyzed my body, but it did the moment he uttered the next words. “I denounce thee father…” But he pauses and I take my turn.

My wand rises again and I watch as a silly smile blossoms over my son’s face. “Stupefy.” The magic hits directly between his eyes and he falls back. I stand pathetically and look down at him. His skin is glowing oddly and his features are slowly altering.

But that’s not what my mind is assessing. I noticed he didn’t put a shield up around himself. And I noticed he denounced Bellatrix before me. And he had paused when I froze stupidly.

Perhaps, he had wanted me to stop him? He wanted to be proved wrong of his theory of me.

Harrison has a crazy desire of having a true father.

But it’s not at all crazy when I want to have a true son.

--Slytherin--

He’s sick and in pain from the ritual magic. Half of it is because he didn’t complete it correctly and also because he was successful in detoxifying half his DNA. Sweat is layering his skin and his mouth is trembling with nonsense words. There is nothing I can do when the ritual is at work. He has a fever, but all I can do is keep cold compression on his forehead.

I know I should be away from his bedside and at Death Eater meetings, but I called them off until a later date. The wizarding world has waited thirteen years; it can wait for another week.

Truthfully, this frightens me. Emotions, I mean. I feel something for Harrison- and it’s both disgusting and powerful at the same time. Disgusting because my soul is already split so much that it’s unfathomable to feel anymore… but I do feel. And for the first time I realize that the old fool Dumbledore may not be so crazy. This… this…love…makes me feel superior- it makes my magic alive. It’s difficult to comprehend, something I know I wouldn’t find in a text book to help me out. So I will have to go along with it for now.

My hand is sliding comfortingly down his sweaty cheek and my eyes are studying the rising and falling of his chest. Earlier, he had started calling for Snape of all people. I accepted the burning jealousy that inflamed my chest- and I acted childish. I told him through his fevered state that Snape has died, he is there no longer. The only regret I had was that I never got the chance to play with Severus before he died.

And then. He called out for me.

His lips parted and he whispered ‘father’. It was different from the time Damon used it. I accepted it… I welcomed Harrison’s delirious endearments and gave him some in return. I whispered the endearments, mind you- but I also caressed his face and held his hand to try to comfort his pain and loneliness.

I felt like a damned Dumbledore.

Harrison stirs and my hand rears back. He will awaken, I know.

I move to the chair and rest tiredly in it. I may be immortal, but I am tired. Through hooded eyes I see him awaken. “You’re awake.” I state the obvious. His head turns to assess me. Those eyes are back to green- the color they should be. He becomes flushed and turns away from me.

Now, this won’t do. “Look at me.” His eyes turn back to me submissively. “You are in trouble, you foolish boy.” His face stayed perfectly still. Good boy.

“Why did you stop me?” His voice cracked due to the screaming he had done earlier. “Why? Why did you choose him and not me? Why did you keep me around?”

Again, foolish boy. He should know by now that I didn’t choose the other boy. I ignore his demand and focused on the topic at hand. “You don’t know what you almost did.”

He seemed appalled at that. “You mean… I didn’t succeed?” Anger flushed through me.

“No you foolish boy!” I stood up and angrily slammed my fist on my nightstand. “You succeeded in having no mother, but you still have me.” Mocking filtered across my tone. “Look at you- thinking you could complete a ritual at the age of fourteen. You could have died have I not saved you.” That isn’t true. He could’ve survived… he would’ve completed it if I stalled any longer to get to him.

His glare didn’t faze me in the least. “Saved me? Like hell you saved me. I would’ve been better off without a mother anda father.”

Fatigue rushes through me and I sit back in my chair. Uncharacteristically, I place my face in my hands and ask softly, “How can you not see you are my heir?”

“What? You named Damon-,”

“I should’ve told you before hand- but I was afraid you would open your mouth.” I look at him. “I knew you were my chosen as soon as I saw you. Your aura sang to me, your charisma was Slytherin, you even looked like me. He was no heir, Harrison. The other boy was a set-up. I named him heir at that dinner because I knew I had a spy within one of my inner circle. By announcing my heir, I set him up as the next target; I would be able to narrow my suspicions. You see- if I named my real heir, I would be putting him in danger, I would never want that.”

I see realization spread across his face.

“Is Damon…?”

“He was poisoned to death.” I wave my hand with disinterest. “I had thought the traitor was between two groups of inner circles. I had a dinner and announced it at that time. It turns out the traitor was indeed among us that night- working for Dumbledore.”

He sucks in a breath and looks away. “Peter Pettigrew?” Good, he was observant.

“Yes.”

He looked confused and I bit back a nasty retort. “But… couldn’t you have slipped Truth Serum into their drinks that night and questioned them? Or tortured them? Or anything other than… that?”

I smirked. “I needed a good excuse to kill him off.”

“Kill Pettigrew off?” Silly…

“No- your ‘brother’.” Again, he was confused. Must I explain everything? We will work on that. “You were going to be my heir, Harrison. I knew you two didn’t get along, and I don’t care for anyone in the way of my heir. I as good as well killed him.” A pause. “I know what you went through growing up, my past was similar, and I wanted to make it better for you. You deserve this- you are my son, my true son. And I always protect what I desire…”

I wasn’t ready to say love; I don’t think I will ever be ready to use that word out loud. But I think he understands everything now. His eyes are knowing as they look at me and not for the first time, I see myself in his eyes.

--Slytherin--

I am standing in the doorway to his room. I can’t help the pride that spreads through me as I see him looking in the mirror. He looks like me. Exactly like me- save for the hair and statue. Ever since the ritual, he lost the last of his round features and acquired all of my aristocrat appearance- everything seemed more pronounced. His fingers are long and thin now… they are playing with my Horcrux around his fingers. The Slytherin ring and the Slytherin locket glimmer back at me tauntingly. Harrison knows what they are and I feel safe with them in his possession. I wish to make him one. Just one.

The other day, I found Bellatrix Black sprawled out over the graveyard. Her mouth was pried open. As I looked in the deep cavern, I see the absence of a tongue. Amusement flooded me and I chuckled. My son has creativity… perfect. I wasn’t disappointed in the bitch’s death; after all, I killed his precious Snape. An eye for an eye; what a perfect Dark Heir he will make.

I step forward, directly behind him and I can smell his apprehension. “You’re not nervous are you?” I’m amused. Today, soon, I will announce his presence to all my followers. He will be known as my Dark Heir.

“Of course not, father.” He lies, but I will let it pass. My hand lands on his shoulder where it belongs. His tattered black cloak is finally gone and in replace are richly sewn green robes. He looks handsome. He looks like my younger self.

Again, I look at the Horcrux around my heir’s neck and feel rather comforted with its place. Harrison will protect it- and even if, somehow, it gets destroyed, my legacy will live on in my son.

The End