COMPLETE: AU FatherSon: Voldemort knew I was starved for words of affection and he

used it to his advantage. I don’t know why, but I felt this warmth creep through me when I
heard his whispered confession. “You look strikingly like me when I was younger."

A/n: This two shot- and AU. This next chapter is just Voldemort's point of view. Same story
line.

No Slash- nothing really besides for the occasional reference of emotional child abuse.

Summary: I am known as Harrison Black-Riddle. My life is completely unfulfilling and I find

myself craving my father's attention after he returns from his fourteen-year absence. My
fraternal twin, Damon, is truly the ideal Slytherin heir. Merlin, no, I’m not particularly like
Salazar Slytherin. No, I strive to be just like Severus Snape. Oh—and I'm a Squib—but not
really.

His Slytherin Descendants

I'm fourteen years old.

And I'm also the son of Tom Marvolo Riddle and Bellatrix Black.

I hate my life. My existence is for the sole purpose of passing down the Slytherin legacy and
traits. My mother thinks it was about love and favor, but I know better. Tom Riddle fucked
her because she was the only loyal female Death Eater in his circle that would carry his
twisted seed. He used her, just like he's going to use us all over again when he comes back
into power.

I look over my book in the dark corner at Bellatrix and Damon, my twin brother. How lucky I
am to share my burden with someone the same age as myself. But it's quite the opposite.
Bellatrix favors him. I don't really care though, considering she has sturdy reasons to like
Damon more than she likes me.

For one thing Damon has the looks of a Slytherin heir; dark black hair, lightly bronzed skin,
black eyes, and sharper teeth than the normal person. Not to mention he's tall and burly at
the ripe age of fourteen.

Me on the other hand? I have light auburn hair that shines bronze in the sun, pale skin, and
light green eyes. My statue is petite with cheek bones that stick out noticeable along with an
Adams apple. My mother says my eyes come from the pits of hell and my hair comes from
my muggle grandfather that my father had killed; that made me feel special.

Any way, we aren't exactly twins…. fraternal twins if you're slow like I supposedly am.
You might think that having a thin frame and green eyes is Slytherin, but trust me. I looked
my ancestor up and Damon looks like his identical twin, save for the goatee that hasn't made
its way on the baby face.

But even if I did look like my brother, I would still be invisible to Bellatrix. Why? I'm a
Squib. Or at least, that's what everyone thinks. I'm not though, I'm quite powerful on my
own accord, I read books like they were a cookie recipe for children and I practice 'silly wand
waving' at night when my mother and brother are sleeping.

I can't help the fact that I'm a very private person. I never like the small gatherings Bellatrix
holds with the rest of the awaiting Death Eaters. I always hide myself in the library or my
small room.

You see, Damon is a very confidant person. Don't get me wrong- I am too, but he's a public
confidant. Arrogant, snobbish, very full of himself when he knows his father is the Dark Lord
of Slytherin.

When I was younger, Bellatrix looked down at me with a curl on her lip as a Healer declared
I was a Squib. Ever since that day she has never looked at me in the eye again. The only
reason she keeps me around is to have the Dark Lord, my father, dispose of me for fun when
he gets back.

That's my guess at least.

And he will be coming into power shortly. Those whispers and jumpy auras are enough to
scream 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' is finally coming back. But I'm not worried about
good old papa. If it is Fate's hand who takes my life, I will not complain; although I have my
own plan if I have a chance to escape.

Why must I have an escape route? Well, Bellatrix delightfully raised Damon and I, and bred
us to be the best we can when the Dark Lord comes back around. You see, Slytherin power
only passes down to the real heir. True my twin and I are both descendants, but only one of
us holds the power. And whoever that is, Voldemort will take as his right hand man, his heir.

Not that he needs any heir with all the Horcruxes he has in his power… but I've come to
terms that Damon is the true heir. He will be pledged into our father's circle and I will be
invisible once again if I haven't already been killed for being a 'Squib'.

But- no bragging intended- I am powerful. I know I am. I can duel faster than my brother,
and do spells well advanced past seventh year. I know I can be better if I didn't have to do it
in the cloak of night.

But again, I know Damon is the Slytherin heir. How couldn't he be? He's everything arrogant
as his father.
Oh, and don't get me started on how much everyone praises the man. Voldemort is powerful,
I'll give him that. But the man is bloody insane.

"Come now, my sweet." Bellatrix cooed at Damon from his elbow. "Try harder."

I looked over my book again at the two and held in a smirk of satisfaction. Damon was
trying to talk to the serpent in front of him. Of course, even if you practiced day and night
your whole life, you just don't suddenly acquire the born talent of Parseltongue.

Oh- did I mention I can talk to snakes? Of course, I keep that certain bit of information
secret also.

I'm sure your doubting the fact that I'm not the Slytherin heir, but really, I'm always right.
Damon is the heir. Plus, I don't think I can be the heir with my father. That job requires
being by the man's side day and night. I told you I'm private… he would be overbearing. Or
so I tell myself that.

I know this is off topic- but… my name is Harrison Black-Riddle.

"He'll be here soon." Damon whispered harshly, glaring at the snake with those Slytherin
eyes of his.

Bellatrix sniffed and patted the boy's shoulder. "He won't matter too much, Damon. After
all, you are his heir." She threw a disgusted glance in my direction, but I paid no heed. I was
thinking about what Damon had stated about our father coming soon.

He was probably coming back with the means of the whole Twi-Wizard tournament. Neville
Longbottom, the boy-who-lived, was submitted into the tournament by Barty Crouch Jr. It
was a clever plan, but a little too public for my tastes.

But who is asking me?

A part of me wished I could've gone to Hogwarts with children my own age. I know I'm
much more mature then them, but things get a little lonely around the cold manor. I can't
talk to my mother, or brother, or snakes for that matter. It would be fun to watch the drama
of teenage witches and wizards. The only thing close to drama that I've seen is when Draco
Malfoy comes over on some occasions and he and my brother get loose lips and brag
arrogantly with each other.

I guess that's my weakness… I crave for touch of affection or whispered words I see my
mother give Damon. I crave for something I can never have, and that's why my heart is
slowly turning into stone.

But again… isn't that what I was born to be? A heartless monster? I took my book and
headed out of the library without them even noticing.
I never did feel the manor's occupant's eyes on me. Their forked tongue flicked out
affectionately after me.

--Slytherin--

I was sitting in the living room of the small manor my father gave as a safe house to my
mother while she was pregnant. His grandparents and father's old manor. All around me
Death Eater's were pacing restlessly, looking at each other from underneath those white
masks of theirs.

My brother… or lack of- was sitting proudly with his hood down, basking in the stares that
some Death Eater's sent his way. I was sitting in the corner chair with my hood up, stiff and
ready to pounce on anyone who attacked. Maybe if I didn't own just this one ratty black,
hooded cloak, I might be wearing something of rich material… considering my father has
just come back into existence.

Yes, that's right. He was reborn again last night. It's now early morning, and the dark side is
pacing restlessly around our manor. How boring… I wished I had my novel with me. I was
currently reading a good book titled 'The Woos of Lady Death' It sounded like a romance
novel, true, but it was about the different runes and sacrifices a dark wizard could use for
multiple of things. I had my eye on one- one that would remove my heritage and make me
just Harrison. Blonde hair and blue eyes, or maybe I would have yellow eyes and red hair. It
would be interesting on how it would work.

I let my eyes wander under my hood at the occupants in Bellatrix's house. The Malfoy's were
all here, laughing in delight with neighboring Death Eater's, Bellatrix was sitting near
Damon with a crazed smile upon her face, and Snape was sulking in the corner opposite of
me. That man always interested me. He reminded me of myself. Hopefully I would turn out
as a potions master with an unknown past. Everyone would be afraid to dig deeper into my
life…

I could find someone… and maybe love them, if I wasn't already too far way from that
emotion… and I could go to Hogwarts.

Speaking of Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom got away. Pathetic, I know. My own Dark Lord
of a father couldn't even kill a fourteen year old Gryffindor. I know exactly what happened.
He was bragging to his Death Eaters how easy it was to kill the Boy-Who-Lived, that he
became arrogant.

Proof that Damon was the true heir, not me. I would've just skinned the boy as soon as my
eyes met his.

At the moment, Voldemort was in the other room, seeing a skilled Healer from the Dark
Side.
My attention swept toward Snape who gazed across the room with the same eyes as my
mother and Damon shared. I hated those eyes. I heard my father had black eyes before he
turned them crimson.

Did I mention I hate my life? I think I have, but in case you have forgotten already.

The potions master gave a short nod in greeting and respect. I almost blinked in surprise.
He'd never done that to Damon before. Speaking of my brother, I could hear him laughing at
something Draco mentioned.

What should I do? I've never looked at Pureblood or even Dark heritage's traditions in
greetings or anything of the sort. Part of me wanted to pull up my middle finger and flip him
off like the rest of the people in the room.

Instead I gave a short nod in return and kept my gaze on the man. He couldn't see my face
under the hood, but somehow he knew it was me. It only made my interest in him heighten.

My mind swept to stone as soon as the Dark Lord's door opened. And I finally met the sight
of my father.

He was ugly.

That was the first thing that came through my head, but soon after, came his strong aura
and frightening air that sent goosebumps down everyone's skin. He… was amazing.
Now thiswas an ideal Slytherin heir.

He might have pale and scaly skin with no nose or hair, but the man was powerful, and
unfortunately, power drove people in society. His crimson eyes surveyed the room, passing
my form briefly and moving on as if I were nothing to him. He probably didn't even know he
had children.

"My followers." He whispered huskily, waving a hand with long, yellow fingernails. "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."

Bellatrix made her way over to his left side where a child bearing woman belonged. I thought
I saw Voldemort grimace, but in an instant his face was carved out of stone. Nothing showed
on his face. I wondered what was going through that mind.

People all around me dropped to their knees with excited murmurs and praises. I guess I
should follow them considering I don't want his attention on me.

When I was on my knees my mind began to run again. Why didn't I want my father's
attention? I craved for it since I was a little boy… hoping to impress my male guardian so
he'd loveme. How foolish of me… Now look at me, my head is bowed away from his gaze and
I'm huddled into the darkest corner of the room.

Nothing new there.

I decided then, on my knees, that I would have to leave this place soon. My father would
never look at me special- I had better luck with the guards at Azkaban. But most
importantly, I was smart enough to know I was young and thus had a long life in front of
me. I couldn't throw it away so easily.

And then the thought of Dumbledore entered my mind. I hated that old fool, I knew he used
manipulation on his closest puppets, but then again, he wouldn't look down on me for being
private or a green-eyed boy.

Sorry, I ramble in my own head. I guess its because I'm the only one I could talk to while
growing up. I'm not in self-pity, mind you, I am good company once you get to know me. A
little sarcastic and cynical, but otherwise,… ok company. Not super or anything…

"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."

Let him gather his strength? I changed my plan of running to Dumbledore… after all I am a
full Slytherin. I don't want to get killed. Maybe Snape had a few potion shacks out of the
country. I've always wanted to visit Greece.

"Yes M'lord." Chants swept eagerly through the crowd, sending shivers down my back.

Or then again, maybe somewhere farther away from here, like Japan.

I looked up slightly and watched as Voldemort swept toward the room he had just entered
from. Bellatrix gave a whine like a pathetic dog and started off after him. I gave a dark
chuckle as the door slammed in her face.

My cursed green eyes swept over toward Damon to see a frown of disappointment on his face.
That must have been a blow to his ego, never once had he been ignored. Welcome to my
bloody life, brother dearest. I'm sure Bellatrix is used to it from long ago, but she's too dim-
witted to realize she's being manipulated.

The Death Eaters started to move out and I stood along with them. I wasn't going to get in
the middle of their hissy fit. I noticed Snape fall back near me. It wouldn't be an odd sight,
but considering he's the one that always runs out of here first, it was unnatural.

We stepped out of the warm chamber and out in the brisk early morning. My small room and
precious library was across the grounds toward the cemetery. The other plus side? It was far
from Damon's room and Bellatrix's. But even if I was at a distance, I still had to keep a low
profile considering the two might come to the library for a little studying.

"My lord?" Snape whispered to me and I literally stopped in my tracks, glaring at him
underneath my hood.

"I'm not your lord, Snape." My head snapped toward his direction, which was unfortunately
toward the blowing wind. The breeze played with my hood, revealing my features and messy
bronze hair.

He was surprised at my appearance, which made me even more peeved. He hid his surprise
well, but I could see his black eyes spark.

"Of course, if you insist." His voice was so dry, I loved it. Mine on the other hand was a raspy
whisper… considering I hadn't used a proper sentence since the age of three. Well, save for
the endless speeches in my own head.

I watched blankly as he crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at me with his
crooked nose. I even like his nose.

The man was just a puzzle that I would love to sit down with and solve. I loved puzzles, and
riddles, and anything that challenged me for more than an hour.

I'm pathetic, aren't I? Maybe twisted because of my upraising, but then again, I can't blame
everything on my dark past.

"Is there something you wanted? I must get going." I didn't have anywhere in particular, and
I wanted to see more of this man, but I was uncomfortable with talking to anyone but myself.

Those black eyes looked through me and I repressed a smirk. I was an Occlumencer, and he
was a Legilimencer. We didn't mix in the slightest.

"I'm sure you are busy." There was that dry tone of his, almost sarcastic. My eyes narrowed
slightly… I was the king of sarcasm.

"I happen to notice you aren't very close with your mother or brother, and am curious as to
your relationship with them." I schooled my features perfectly, not even a crease in my pale
skin appeared. But inside- locked behind my Occlumency- I was shocked.

How dare him step this close to my private life? He obviously underestimated me for my age.
"I am as close as a Slytherin family can be, Snape. We sit down for crumpets and tea in the
after noon, while in the bath of the silver light we share our deepest secrets." I laced as much
sarcasm as I could with composing my face not to move, save for my lips.
I watched his lip twitch upward. "I'm sure. No matter, if you do not wish to tell me,
I am skilled in Legilimency and your brother isn't skilled in Occlumency." I knew my brother
would ruin everything…

"And let me tell you, he holds you slightly higher than the rubbish he recently deposed of, if
not the same."

"It doesn't surprise me." That's all I'm going to say. Really… I'm not starved for attention
like my brother is.

"And your mother is very interested in telling the Dark Lord of you existence, can you
possibly wonder why?" His eyebrows rose toward his high forehead, and I watched in
boredom as a piece of black hair from his greasy head started to flutter in the wind.

"Of course. I am his son after all." I followed Snape's movement and crossed my arms in front
of my small body. "Really, Snape, I have no idea why you would want to dig this deep into
my life. Especially the life of a Slytherin, it's not healthy for you." I paused, my voice caught
in my throat from the disuse. "Unless you're trying to tell me something I don't already know
about my life?"

The Death Eaters were already gone now, leaving the two of us to stand between a few
headstones. I bet Bellatrix and Damon were still waiting outside of Voldemort's room like
good servants did.

A curl from Snape's upper lip caught my attention. How could the man have so few face
expressions, yet each one was fascinating to watch?

"It's because you're claimed as a Squib." The way he said 'claimed' made me realize he knew I
wasn't a Squib.

"How did you know?" I hissed, dropping my mask and stepping closer to him.

"Simply because I was the one who claimed you as a Squib when you were younger."
Everything froze within me. I once read a book about a boy whose heart stopped from shock.
I could never understand why someone could have such emotion as the little boy. But now I
did.

I withdrew from him, intent to continue on to my sanctuary. A strong hand grasped my thin
arm and jerked me toward Snape's tall form. "I did it for your own good. For our own good."

I stared at his hand on my arm in horror. No one had ever touched me. Seeing my expression,
the man dropped my arm and clenched his teeth together.

Stop- rewind- what the bloody hell did he say?

"I don't understand." I hissed like the Slytherin descendant I was. "Why would you declare
me a Squib? For whose own good?"

"I knew you were going to end up like your brother if I hadn't declared you a Squib. Is that
the way you want to be? Arrogant and so big-headed that everything slips your notice? I
watched you today, you are observant and ready… you're like a serpent ready to attack." I
would've snorted at the analogy, but I kept it inside, intent to listen to the man's crazy ideas.

"I picked you because you seemed more powerful, more Slytherin than Damon. I knew you
would be strong and determined to show everyone when you got older. Harrison, you are the
heir of Slytherin."

The wind was playing with my hair, sending bronzed strands into my eyes. I just looked at
him blankly. "I did this for you and the rest of the world. If Damon were to be named heir,
he will destroy the dark side from the inside out. He may be powerful, but he's not a
Slytherin. If you were to be heir to your father, at least you would have some dignity and
smarts about you."

Even if it sounded ludicrous, I understood why he did what he did. If he hadn't named me
Squib I would've ended up like Damon. And just the thought of that made my stomach
churn. The price for having a good head on my shoulders was the loss of motherly love and
affection. Snape knew all this were to happen to me, he knew I would mature quickly before
my father came into power.

If two powerful Slytherin descendants were to have the personality that Damon had, then
the wizarding world would be non-existent.

"That's a good theory." I replied breathlessly, admiring Snape more and more, but not
showing it in the least. "But unfortunately neither you nor I choose who is named Slytherin
heir. That duty lands on my father's shoulders, and from where I'm sitting, Damon makes
the perfect candidate."

If I really wanted my father to notice I was a strong wizard, I could go up to him like Damon
would and complain to him how mother dearest treated me unfairly and I really am not a
Squib. But I'm not like that. I like people to figure out themselves what is in front of them.

"Then come to the Light side with me. They can use your help." My eyes narrowed. I smelt
manipulation.

The wind became stronger and my cloak fluttered dramatically. "Is this what it's about,
Snape? Are you really on the Light side and planned this out since day one? Or was it
Dumbledore's plan? To twist me into your own pawn and use me against my father? Comfort
me when I'm at my lowest point and offer me what I always craved?"
Snape looked at me with satisfaction and pleasure. I was uncomfortable underneath that
stare of his. "It seems that way, yes." Was all he said, silently applauding me on my instincts.

"What side are you on?" I asked softly, seeing a figure stand in the doorway to my father's
manor. It could've been Voldemort himself, Bellatrix, or even Damon. It was too hard to see
from here.

"Honestly? I'm on your side. In between- grey." I allowed myself to smile at that. Did I
mention I really adored Snape? A real Slytherin. "But if I were to pick I would have to say
the Dark side."

I stood still for a few minutes, watching the figure stare down at us from the doorway. "Have
you ever heard of the book The Woos of Lady Death?" At seeing the man give a short nod, I
continued. "The ritual of the Dark Descendants?"

I watched Snape's eyes widen in surprise and suspicion. "You wish to denounce your
Slytherin traits?"

"No." I replied simply, giving a large smirk. "I want to erase Riddle and Black from my
blood, become my own breed. I will have no anchors to my father or my mother. I keep my
powers, but my father can't bind me to himself. It's not like he would want to either." I
replied bitterly as an after thought, getting slightly irritated as the shadow from the manor
came out of the light and moved toward us slowly.

"What are you asking me?" Snape asked, turning to see what caught my attention.

"Make the potion for me. I will take care of the rest. I am forbidden to leave these grounds." I
started to move away from the potion's master.

"Then what will you do?" He asked after me softly, making his way to the apparition points.

"We'll talk once you get that potion for me." After that, I widened my stride and pulled my
hood up.

Once I reached the small manor that housed my room and library and other creepy corridors,
I turned to see if the figure followed me here, but saw no one.

--Slytherin--

It had been a week passed since I talked to my idol. There had been a few Death Eater
meetings here and there, but that was it when it came to the Dark Lord. I haven't seen hide
of him since that early morning, considering I haven't attended the meetings.

Here I was again, at the library at an unrealistic hour of the night. Damon and Bellatrix
were either cooped up near Voldemort's door or getting their beauty rest. For the past week I
have been cramming as much information as I can in my overloaded head. I had to be
prepared for… well for something.

Would you believe me if I said I had no idea what I was going to do when Snape finished the
potion? I was at loss.

I ignored the serpent that slithered passed the book I was reading. It was the same book I
was studying, The Woos of Lady Death. I was sure I wanted to do this. After all, a Slytherin
is second to no one. If – no, when - my brother got heir, I wasn't going to waste the rest of my
life waiting for him to die.

"He's watching you." The serpent hissed at me from the corner of my book. I ignored him and
shooed him away with my hand.

The annoying serpent hissed angrily and covered my reading material with his lard body. "I
said he's watching you." The forked tongue came to my nose. "Again."

Irritation spread through me. "Leave me the bloody hell alone!" I shouldn't have snapped like
that to my only ally in this manor, but I was into a crisis point of my book.

"Language." A voice hissed seductively from besides me.

There was that emotion again that shocked my chest to freeze in place. I snapped my head
around to see a richly cloaked figure lounge in the arm chair a ways away from me.

Closing the book I stood up and made my way slowly over to the figure. Once the fright left
my head, I knew it was my father. For unknown reasons, a blush came to my face as I fell to
my knees and bowed my head.

Perhaps it was because I got caught talking in Parseltongue in front of him.

I felt oddly vulnerable before him. My cloak was in my room and all I had on was a simple
black shirt on with ripped muggle jeans. To say it showed off my weak statue was an
underestimate.

"My lord, I didn't know you were here." I answered truthfully, feeling overwhelmed with his
magic soothing me.

"Of course you didn't." His voice was amused. "Just as you didn't for the past week."

Goosebumps went across my body at that statement. He was watching me all this time…

"I feel like a fool." I admitted more to myself than to him.

"Don't. If I wanted to be hidden, no one would know I was here. I chose to reveal myself to
you tonight." I was utterly confused on why the man was here. And what he knew about
what I've been doing… or even if he even knew me for heaven's sake.

"Rise, Harrison." His voice was oddly gentle, much different from his tone he takes at Death
Eater meetings.

My head snapped up in the darkness, sure I heard him use my name. "You know me?"

He chuckled and snapped his fingers causing the room to alight with a few candles. I
immediately threw my head down again in shame of my appearance. "Bellatrix has told me
many things about you." He stood up from his chair and came in my direction.

This is it…. he was going to kill me for being his only 'Squib' son.

"Come, sit with me. We have much to discuss." I hesitated when I watched his feet move
over to the couch and sit down. Taking a deep breath, I rose and made my way over to the
offending furniture with my head down.

I sat down- mind you- far from him.

"She's told you?" I asked in a void voice. Of course she did, she must have had a field day
with that.

"Look up at me." The voice was hard, commanding and I immediately followed that order.

My ugly green eyes met with his crimson ones. "She's told me countless of things about you,
but I still don't know anything about you." A skeleton hand reached toward my chin and I
reflexively reared back.

"About your green eyes and odd appearance." I watched an amused smirk appear on his face
as he gazed at me with an emotion that I thought he would only reserve for Damon. Pleasure
and desire. "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."

Voldemort knew I was starved for words of appreciation and he used it to his advance. I
don't know why, but I felt this warmth sweep through me when I heard his declaration.

"You look strikingly like me when I was younger."

I felt slightly uncomfortable, despite the pride in my chest for looking like my father. It was
if there was something he was holding back- bad information that he would soon break.

"I was under the impression you hated the memory of your mother." I replied bitterly,
looking away from those sharp eyes.
"No." He paused. "I don't." His hand crept closer to me and I looked at it out of the corner of
my eye. "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 stood up, away from the hand and away from him. He wasn't what I imagined. He was too
soft with me. I didn't like it one bit. "Don't pretend you care." I hissed at him angrily, glaring
in the distance. "I know you; you have no desire to be a father or anything of the sort."

He didn't speak, but yet I could feel his amused eyes on me.

"You're supposed to be cruel and stone hearted." I whispered off the ending, hating this.

"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." I knew he was right.
"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 noticed he said 'son' and not 'sons'. It was such a small thing, but I noticed his slip.

He stood up, easily towering over me. What he did next made me replay this moment over
and over again.

He grabbed my chin harshly and slammed me up against the wall. With his face bent toward
my eye level, he hissed out at me. "If you even dare to try the Dark Descendant ritual, I'll cut
off both your hands and kill Severus. Do you understand me?"

Of course he would know what's happening at his own manor, but still, I was shocked at
hearing it come out of his mouth.

"Yes…"

With that, he let go of my face and swept away from the room. I let a smirk make its way on
my face at seeing my father act like a true Slytherin.

--Slytherin--

I was minding my own business, really- that's all I do most the time- when my father came
striding into my small room. He took one look around the room and motioned me with a
skeletal hand. "Come, I want you to move your bedroom over to my main manor." I sat on
my bed, reading The Woos of Lady Death, mind you, and slammed it shut.

"Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy my bedroom. It's private." I think he would know exactly
what I met when I said 'private' but it appeared he would have none of it. I watched him
turn his heel and sweep out of the room like the drama king he was.
I wasn't going to follow. There was no way in hell I would leave my sanctuary and-

"Come." I was pulled off my bed by an invisible force around my neck. It was if a collar was
latched around my throat- like a dog being lead by his master.

I was dragged literally across the floor with my book clutched in my grasp and my only black
cloak ripping on the corner of a loose floorboard. It was only last night that my father and I
talked- he didn't take long to come gather me from my safe haven and bring me to the pit of
hell with my mother and brother.

"Get up." Voldemort hissed, yanking his wand upward; thus causing me to get on my knees
while my hands hugged the ritual book closer.

"I don't want to go." I hissed through my bared teeth at the man. He looked different
today… much more of a Dark Lord than last night. No amusement was present in those
crimson eyes. Maybe he had to bear the presence of Damon and Bellatrix all morning.

"Come, my pet." He purred, yanking me hard this time, causing my book to fly out of my
arms and at his feet.

As I watched him look at the book and point his 'leash' at it, my anger soared. After fourteen
years I haven't had this much rage in my life. I knew my eyes were glowing- they always do
when I feel my magic go out of control- and my hands flew out in front of me in a desperate
gesture. Three things happened at once; the invisible collar was gone, my book came flying
back into my hands, and my father stumbled backwards. I honestly didn't mean for the last
one to happen… it just sort of did.

My breathing came out ragged and my bronze bangs fell in my eyes. Voldemort was
emotionless, staring at me with his crimson eyes. Although I could easily sense the
excitement flittering around him, he took an advanced step forward and clutched my
shoulders.

"Squib… I'm sure you bloody well are." He whispered, walking away again. This time he
didn't use his wand as a leash. "Come with me, Harrison. Now." It wasn't fun and games
anymore, he meant it.

Being the weak child that I was, I followed him. Well- with his magic threatening me I
accepted submissively. "Why am I moving?" I asked him as he motioned for the house elf to
move my things.

He turned his cool stare on me and cocked his head to the side. "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 replied bitterly, squeezing the book I was carrying.
"Who ever says I can't choose you?" I didn't respond, or look at him. After all, I knew
Damon was his chosen one. He just wanted me as a bloody slave and the descendant to pass
down the heritage. My finger unconsciously caressed the book I was carrying; I was
somewhat surprised Voldemort hadn't taken it away yet.

Maybe that was a sign. He didn't care if I used the ritual- if he did, he would've burned it to
the crisp. Fortunately I memorized everything about the ritual, and intended to use at as
soon as Snape gathered his balls and gave me the potion.

"Pull your hood up." He motioned his hand lazily at me, while continuing on his abnormally
fast pace. I saw Death Eater's scattered around the manor while bowing as the Dark Lord
passed, I felt invisible to them- not one of them glanced in my direction. I was the
indiscernible heir.

Disappointment clutched at my chest as I pulled my hood up-

Reasoning?

I didn't know.

--Slytherin--

My father left me as soon as he disposed me in my 'new room'. It was hideously large. I

sneered at the rich material placed handsomely around the room and the mission furniture
glossed in black. I hated it. I wished I was back in my small room with my cracked bed frame
and crocked nightstand. And better yet? It was the farthest room from civilization. I should
feel happy about that fact but it just proved my father wanted me invisible.

Damon's room was paces away from the entrance hallway, as was Bellatrix's. Just so he
could show his perfect heir off.

I made a sickened noise in my throat as I dropped my book on the richly stitched bed sheets.
Why did I even care? It was almost if I… wanted his attention, almost if I needed to see he
actually thought me worthy. Never once did I feel this way with Bellatrix or Damon. I
always cared for myself and kept private.

So why was my father so different?

Because he reminds me of myself. Because I want to impress him.

Angrily running a hand through my already messy hair, I paced the long length of the room.
I really didn't need a father figure in my life… even if a few days ago I admitted to myself I
wanted the feeling of acceptance from anyone. I shouldn't waste my time trying to impress
someone who is already blinded by someone else.
My eyes roamed over to the book lying on the bed. I will do the ritual, and when I'm finished
I can finally move on with my life.

Movement caught my eye and I turned to see myself in a large mirror. I sneered at it. I hated
my reflection. His words whispered in the back of my head. "You look strikingly like me when
I was younger." Oh, I longed to hear that from him when I was little. I dreamed of my father
coming back and taking me away from the hell I grew up with. I wanted to look up to him as
my idol- my hero while he looked at me like I belonged by his side…. the same way he looks
at Damon.

I watched as my sneer turned into a wicked smile. Pulling back my hand, I made a slashing
movement and wandlessly shattered the mirror. Even if I was a safe distance away, pieces of
glass pierced my skin. My cold green eyes watched as my dark, crimson, blood swelled out of
the cut and overfilled. A gentle rhythm sounded throughout the room as tiny droplets hit the
wood floor.

I loved that sound…

--Slytherin--

I felt his cold eyes on me as I sat unwillingly down at the table. Voldemort ordered me to
come to the dinning room for dinner and I was so happy to see Damon and my loving mother
there as well. Merlin… this is a happy family get together. What the bloody hell… I just
feel happy.

Like hell I did. I felt like killing myself. After the incident with the mirror earlier today, I got
this odd notion in my head that if the ritual failed to work I would like to take my own life.
It's not a very Slytherin thing to do, but it felt oddly good to feel something other than a
void emotion within me. I felt pain, and it felt wonderful. I don't know why I haven't tried
hurting myself earlier, maybe it's because I was already facing Damon's and Bellatrix's
emotional abuse.

Voldemort didn't look too happy with me, I don't know why, but I really didn't care
anymore. Perhaps it's because he told me to wear those ridiculously dressy cloaks in my
closest and I chose to wear my worn black cloak with frayed edges. Why not wear this? It
didn't stink. In fact, it never stunk, so I don't understand why…

My rambling thoughts are interrupted by more bodies entering the room. I bit my tongue as
hard as I could when I realized it was Severus, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, along with Peter
Pettigrew. What a crowd. How bloody exciting. My eyes fasten over to Voldemort as I see
him giving one of his small smirks. He's up to something, and I don't like not knowing what
it was. In fact… my eyes go toward Damon who follows his father's act and gives his own
smirk.

Oh-
This should be exciting.

I immediately notice the seating. Bellatrix was glowing at Voldemort's left hand side while
Damon was placed proudly by his right side. Lucius Malfoy was sitting on Damon's right
while his bloody poof of a son was sitting on his right. On Bellatrix's right sat Snape and I
was lucky enough to sit to the right of Wormtail.

My chest hurt from trying not to give a bitter laugh. Well- my father surely showed me who
was of higher place. And everyone here knew it. If the amused looks I was receiving wasn't
enough, it was Pettigrew's awful smell. Why did I even bother to place a cleaning charm on
my cloak?

Voldemort stood up. I refused to call him my father anymore, reasons being avoided at the
moment since I didn't want to get all emotional. But that's right. I don't feel any emotion
beside the occasional pain and loneliness.

"Thank you for coming, Lucius, Severus, Draco, and Peter." He gave a respectful nod to
his faithful followers.

I gagged in my mouth. Was it possible to accidentally swallow your tongue? I guess it isn't
unless it's morbidly cut from its attachments. Briefly I wondered what those attachments
were called. Tongue strings? No, I knew what they were called- extrinsic muscles… I
remember because a potion required three for ingredients. When I become my own Dark
Lord I will experiment with that, cut off my victims extrinsic tongue muscles and watch
them swallow their tongue whole.

A smirk came to my face. Maybe I can try it on Bellatrix. The bitch will serve better
purposes if she didn't have a tongue to grace us all with her mocking voice. Egh. I look over
her way and lock eyes with Snape. The man was emotionless but a light probe to my head
made me realize he was trying to tell me something.

But I couldn't bring down my Occlumency shields. I look away from him- not really listening
to Voldemort's speech. Instead I looked away into the distance with my eyes unfocused.
Sometimes I can get away from my body and let myself drift off into the void of no where.
It's the most peaceful place in my existence.

I know as a Slytherin I should be studying everyone sitting near me for any mishaps or
mistakes they make that would result in treachery. But I really didn't care at the moment.
My focus was all on the Dark Descendant ritual. I actually felt a spark of excitement for
trying it. If only the bloody potion's master would hurry up with the potion and ignore
Voldemort's warning. Didn't the man see the Dark Lord wouldn't care?

"And so I wish to congratulate Damon as my Dark Heir." I came back into this world and
never moved an inch of my face. I knew this was going to happen, but I still felt a sharp stab
go through my stomach. All my life I was second. I always craved for my father to sweep me
away and give me what I deserved.

Enough self-pity.

I will get my revenge. I'm still young, only fourteen, but I know I can pull it off.

Maybe…

My eyes swivel toward Snape. Maybe Snape could fill my empty void. I know the man is
very private and unemotional man, but so is my… so is Voldemort.

Speaking of the Dark Lord, I can feel his eyes bore into me. I never gave him the pleasure of
meeting his gaze. Instead I clapped lightly with the rest of the occupants of the room. I saw
Draco give a laugh and a un-Malfoy holler. Lucius nudged him and I felt envy for such a
small thing. Even that family had a relationship.

Bellatrix was had her crazed smile on her face and she…. winked at me. I saw red.

"When is the food here?" A voice whispered interrupted my anger in my ear and I turn to see
Pettigrew's yellow teeth in my face. The man really did look like a rat, but despite
everything, I cracked a smirk.

"I don't know, but I am rather hungry." Peter snickered at me, even when I wasn't trying to
be funny, and played with his fork and spoon.

The crowd further down the table was talking happily to Damon and congratulating him.
Bellatrix was making a rather rude remark about the strong blood in Slytherin and how it
would be devastating if she only had me. I ignored her and watched my sickening reflection
in the spoon. My eyes were too green… those were the first to go when the ritual was over.

I glared at myself- willing my repulsive eyes away. My hand tightened on the spoon in shock
when I saw a change in reflection. I blinked and blinked again. They were yellow, not green.
I allowed myself I small smile. Next to my hair, hopefully I would have dark red, I always
desired dark red, but I couldn't now. Not in front of everyone. I had to pretend I was a Squib
still for the element of surprise later on.

I jumped slightly when food magically popped in front of me. Draco gave a smirk in my
direction and leaned behind his father to whisper something in Damon's ear.

My fraternal twin gave a chuckle. "Worthless Squib."

I really should work on my temper. Really… I should, considering that is another trait I
inherited from Voldemort. But I lost it then. I looked at Damon from underneath my bronze
bangs as he arrogantly slipped a piece of red steak into his mouth. That smirk on his face
didn't belong there- the way he chewed that steak even looked repulsing.

My sneer turned into a smirk as Damon's black eyes widened and the Slytherin heir dropped
his fork with a large clatter. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper- but my magic amused
me by choking the brat. Damon's hands went to his throat, a universal sign for choking, and
he gave a dry heave.

"Oh my!" Bellatrix stood up and hurried over to her precious son's side. She urgently patted
his back while Lucius took out his wand and spelled away the steak in his throat. But that
wouldn't help, he wasn't choking on his food, I was squeezing his air pipe. He continued to
shake and his lips were turning white. Lucius tried another spell, but nothing came up.

An angry hissing from Voldemort ruined my concentration, and I released the hold on
Damon. I quickly gave a fleeting look at the Dark Lord, but before I could distinguish any
emotions, I quickly looked away at my plate. When the shock wore down from the Slytherin
heir choking, I gave a smile.

"Worthless…" I purred, grabbing my wine glass. "The Dark heir can't even chew his food." I
took a drink from the rich liquid and looked over the rim at Damon for good measure.

I know I'm a tease…

His cheeks turned red and before he could retort, Voldemort gave a warning tisk. "Enough."

I turned my eyes toward Snape and saw the man smirking slightly at the whole situation.
Our eyes met and I smiled- a real one. Bellatrix tapped him on the shoulder and engaged him
in a quiet conversation. Out of curiosity I looked over to Voldemort to see the Dark Lord
gaze at Severus with an emotion I wasn't exactly sure on.

It looked like jealously or some sort of possessiveness.

Impossible, the Dark Lord never showed emotions- especially those emotions.

Curious though…

"Are you going to eat those?" Pettigrew asked with his mouth full, pointing his fork at my
two potatoes.

I gazed at him, watching as his mouth moved the same way a rat nibbled on food. "No, go
for it." It always amused me how something so simple can make someone happy.

Just like something as small as an embrace would make my life turn upside down.

--Slytherin--
"Meet me out in the graveyard tonight." Snape murmured to me at the after dinner lounge.

You're probably wondering what the after dinner lounge is… its simply where the guests all
go into the lounge and have more wine than they can handle. Including me… I get whatever
I want considering no one even really sees me.

Voldemort was sitting, or rather lounging arrogantly, on a small chair in the corner.
Everyone just seemed to flock around him. I wonder how he can handle that- or is it just a
show? Really, it doesn't matter. Only Snape and I were away from the crowd, I was sitting
down on a black leather couch while Snape leaned on the back of it. Of course, Peter
Pettigrew was away from the crowd too- eating the little finger foods off the silver platter.

Snape moved from the back of my sitting area and made his way over by Pettigrew to pick
up a cube of cheese. I waited, picking at my fingernails- trying to act nonchalant as I stood
up and followed my Slytherin idol over to the finger food platter. I hurriedly grabbed the last
cube of cheese before Pettigrew, making him sulk and go farther down the buffet line.

"You're risking a lot, Snape. Are you sure?" I knew he was talking about the ritual tonight,
what else would he be meeting me for?

"I told you I would help you, I never go back on my word." His mouth barely moved- but I
stared outright at him. No one had ever done anything for me. And here he was, going
against the Dark Lord's order and helping me. I hated that I felt that warmth in my chest
after his statement.

"Thank you." I mumbled, looking at the toothpick in my hands.

"Eleven thirty." He whispered- his face was looking away from me as he picked up a piece of
cubed meat.

"Drinks?" A high pitched voice squeaked from behind Snape and me. I turned and saw a
house elf carry a tray of alcoholic drinks. My eyes lit up as I reached for the biggest glass I
could find. I needed it for what I was going to go through tonight.

A hand grasped my wrist, halting my movements. I looked up, thinking it Snape, but was
taken back when Voldemort stood in front of me. "I think you had enough for tonight, go to
bed." He ruffled my feathers as I reared away from him. I could feel his cold hand on my
chin, jerking my face closer to his. "Change those hideous eyes."

"Get your hands off me." I hissed in Parseltongue, making sure no one heard me but him.
"You're not my father, nor my Lord."

With that, I made a dramatic exit, making sure my cloak was blowing up behind me like I'd
seen Snape's do on countless of occasions. Excitement was running ecstatic all around me,
and I'm sure Voldemort noticed my aura.
Who gave a damn? The man would hopefully be at the end of my wand- feeling what I felt
my whole bloody life.

--Slytherin--

It was time. I hadn't even sat down since Voldemort dismissed me in the lounge. I glanced at
the book sitting so innocently on my bed and grabbed it. I threw my hood up and smirked at
my blood stain on the floor. Everything would go perfect. I could finish off Damon from the
point I was interrupted- and cut off Bellatrix's tongue. I don't know yet what I'd do to
Voldemort, but I think it will be awhile before I can face the man equally.

I opened my door a fraction and slipped out. I could tell no one was out there, but then
again, I couldn't tell Voldemort was watching me for a week while I was studying. One good
trait I have is my grace. I am a graceful person and my feet barely make a sound when they
hit the floor.

It took awhile for me to get out the door, but it happened. I'm not stupid- I know I have to
hurry if I want to do this without Voldemort knowing. Oh- I forgot to tell you my latest
theory on why Voldemort wants to keep me around. He wants to somehow convert my
powers to Damon- including Parseltongue. Like I would really let that happen.

The wind was barely existent when I ran down the deep steps toward the graveyard but my
cloak was waving gently behind me. I had a smile on my face like that of a rebellious
teenager. Although this was much more serious than what muggle teens do to their parents- I
was going to get rid of mine.

I saw a figure behind a tombstone motion me over to him. It wasn't that dark out with the
almost full moon out- making everything glow ethereal silver. My eyes locked with his and I
gave a nod. "Do you have to potion?" My hand went out, only to feel the cool glass of a
potion's vial being pressed into my skin.

"Of course- and you know how to proceed?" He was wearing a hood, but I noticed his eyes
were shifty. Ah, he was nervous for Voldemort to come out.

"Yes, will you take me somewhere safe when I'm out cold?" I asked him like a vulnerable
child would do to his father. I am such a starved little boy…

"Yes." Those dark eyes locked with mine, and I gave a nod.

I ran over to Thomas and Tom Riddle's grave, easily raising a bone from their casket. I
pulled out a vial with Bellatrix's hair in it and gave a chuckle. This was too easy. I would
finally be free…

My hands were shaking as I kneeled down on the patchy grass with a piece of white,
powdery, chalk. I didn't even need to look at the book that was lying on the side lines. I knew
everything by heart now. My breathing was heard as I drew the points of the star and the
circle within it. I scattered the little Latin characters around the points and threw the chalk
when I was finished. Snape was standing awkwardly against a concrete angel, watching me
in fascination.

I dug into the bag I carried out here and hurriedly put a green, silver, black, white, and
scarlet candle on each point of the star. I ran my index finger and thumb finger on the wicks
and they immediately burned. I grabbed the potion vial along with the hair and bone and sat
crossed legged in the circle.

With sure fingers, I crushed a piece of Riddle's bone and placed it in the potion, along with
the nasty hair of the woman who gave birth to me. I swirled it around for a short period of
time- holding it over one of the flames from the candle. When it bubbled I pricked my finger
and put three drops of blood into the potion- no more, no less. My eyes lightened with
anticipation when the potion started to steam from the open top.

"It's time." I said unnecessarily to Snape- who had now kneeled down outside the ruin.

"Good luck, My Lord." He whispered, eyes dancing with the reflection from the flames.

I gave him a crocked smile and took a deep breath. Here was the time… I would be free and
ready to live my own life- without anyone holding me back. Without being second to
anyone…

I tipped my head back and drank the potion.

Lord Voldemort gave a roar and ran toward me.

As I drank the potion, I could feel the veins in my arms turn cold- almost freezing. I gagged
as I threw down the empty vial and my body was shaking uncontrollably. But I couldn't
black out now. I needed to do the incardination.

I could see the Dark Lord running over to us, and Snape standing up to run. I felt brief
betrayal as he turned to leave. But I was too far under to really comprehend what was
happening. "I ask from the Descendants from below to grant me my wish… my wish to
denounce my heritage."

A spell flew past me- and I heard a body hit the floor. "I denounce my unworthy parents…. I
denounce…." I gagged again on the after affects of the potion. The candles around me
started to flicker and wind that was never present before started to gust around me- almost
eagerly.

"I denounce thee mother, Bellatrix Druella Black." Pain that I've never felt before crackled
through me and I cried out. Just as I leaned forward in pain, a curse whizzed right over my
head.
As I lay there… I looked up into his eyes. "I denounce thee father…" I spat out angrily,
enjoying his eyes widen. Finally I was getting the attention I always desired.

"Stupefy." His bone white wand pointed directly in between my eyes, and hit me right there
before I could finish what I started.

Looking back, I knew I should've warded against spells. But then again- when I look back a
second time, maybe I was hoping he would come before I completed the ritual.

And he did.

--Slytherin--

I don't really know where I am at the moment. All I know is that I'm wet. I think its water,
but I think its sweat too. Maybe it's blood or something of the other. I also know I'm shaking
uncontrollably- almost falling off the soft mattress I'm lying on. Cold hands feel really good
against my hot skin, they're trying to hold me down to no success.

I hear something… it sounds like a squeaking door hinge, but then I realize it matches the
rapid pace of my breath. It's me. My eyes try to open- and maybe they did. All I see is black.

"My child." A voice murmurs in distress from above me, it's the owner of the cold, soothing
hands.

I scream.

--Slytherin--

Really- I don't know how long I've been out, but I have better knowledge than I did when I
was last awake. I have a fever, I know that for certain, and my body is glazed with sweat.
The hands that were stroking me were Voldemort's, and I was having some sort of relapse
from the ritual I did… maybe from not completing it.Or did I complete it?

I also knew I was dying. I could feel the life force dim within me. Don't think I'm not telling
you the truth just to make my condition more dramatic… remember I said I'm always right?
I said Damon would be named heir, and he was. So that means I really am dying.

Sometimes I catch myself calling out to random people. The more I focus, the more I realize
I'm calling out for Snape. That was the first week when I was bed-ridden. After I called the
man's name out, no one would come to me. A cruel voice would always say he is no longer
alive, so I scream out again and thrash uncontrollably.

But after a week, I start to call for my father. Instead of being ignored when I called for
Snape, I was always rewarded with either a hand on my forehead, or someone holding my
hand. Soft endearments followed the caresses and I melted underneath them.
I realized when I got better that Voldemort never left my side. Ever.

--Slytherin--

I opened my eyes slightly, and closed them again in fatigue. I was so tired…. and yet, I think
I've been sleeping for a month now. "You're awake." A voice murmured from beside my bed.
I looked to the side and was greeted with the site of my father sitting on a chair with his legs
crossed and elbow resting on his knee- resting his chin on his hand.

I thought he looked ugly when he was reborn- he looked absolutely trollish now. Dark bags
underneath his dim crimson eyes… he just looked horrid.

I remembered the events that had transpired before this moment, and sighed- turning my
head away from him. "Look at me." His voice growled and I was forced submissively to look
at him. "You are in trouble, you foolish boy." I flinched away from him, and yet I knew my
face stayed passive.

"Why did you stop me?" I asked, and wasn't surprised when my voice came out hoarse from
all the screaming I'd done. "Why? Why did you choose him and not me? Why did you keep
me around?"

I watched as he remained blank. "You don't know what you almost did." He ignored my
questions entirely.

What? Almost? "You mean… I didn't succeed?" This couldn't happen, I was so close.

"No you foolish boy!" He stood up and angrily slammed his fist on my nightstand. "You
succeeded in having no mother, but you still have me." He replied mockingly. "Look at you-
thinking you could complete a ritual at the age of fourteen. You could have died have I not
saved you."

I tried to sit up, but failed. So I gave him my best glare. "Saved me? Like hell you saved me.
I would've been better off without a mother and a father."

I blinked when I watched Voldemort collapse on his chair with his face in his hands. "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." His face
came up and I couldn't see any emotion. "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 realized how stupid I was. It made sense, a little surreal, but it fit perfectly.

"Is Damon…?"

"He was poisoned to death." He announced it like a weatherman would announce the
weather. "I had thought the traitor was between two groups of inner circles. I had one dinner
and announced it at that time. It turns out the traitor was indeed among us that night-
working for Dumbledore."

I sucked in a breath and looked away from him. "Peter Pettigrew?" I asked.

"Yes."

It didn't make all that much sense… "But… couldn't you have slipped Truth Serum into
their drinks that night and questioned them? Or tortured them? Or anything other than…
that?"

A smirk flew on the man's lips and goosebumps appeared on my arms. "I needed a good
excuse to kill him off."

"Kill Pettigrew off?"

"No- your 'brother'."

I must've looked at him oddly. "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." He paused and looked at me with a dark sparkle. "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 knew he would've said 'love' instead of desire, but I know Voldemort is incapable for love. I
understood the man perfectly now. He saw himself in me, and would try his damnest to give
me what he never received while growing up. With him I would have a father, and he would
have someone to stand by him- to finally understand him.

--Slytherin--

I stood in front of the mirror, finally accepting my appearance. I looked different since the
night of the ritual- considering I lost every trace I had of Bellatrix. I was taller now- but still
very slim. My hair was still that same bronze color and my eyes were greener than usual. My
cheekbones and Adams apple was sill pronounced, but my face seemed more… sharper. My
eyebrows were thinner and my hands were very long and thin.
I looked like a pure Riddle.

I allowed my smirk to appear on my face. I was Slytherin; I was my father's heir.

I had my father's Horcrux around my neck- the Slytherin locket- and one of the family
heirloom's rings on my finger. My robes were richly green and black with a small trim of
silver. If you hadn't noticed yet- I was dressed up. Much more than my black cloak I still
have. The reason I was dressed up?

Today was my initiation of the Dark Heir of Slytherin.

Too bad Snape and Bellatrix wouldn't be there. Snape was killed the night of the ritual-
purely out of jealousy for being close to me and anger on Voldemort's half. I wasn't too
happy with my father when I learned that, so I repaid him by killing off Bellatrix. Her
tongue was no where to be found when they found her lifeless body outside. It irked me that
my father was amused with me rather than angry.

So here I was- being all nervous about the whole thing. I shouldn't be, I always wanted this
to happen, especially to rub it in the Malfoy's faces. Apart of me wanted Damon to be here
still just so he could see how things turned out.

A hand placed itself on my shoulder and I looked at my father's gaze in the mirror. "You're
not nervous are you?" He asked mockingly.

"Of course not, father." My heart clenched ridiculously at saying 'father'. I should ask my
father to make me a Horcrux- at least some emotion would be gone by then.

But as I looked at the hand that squeezed itself on my shoulder- I knew this was like an
embrace to both he and I. My life finally turned over.

I knew that together, we would be unstoppable.

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
thanthis, 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 isfoolish. 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