Soul Weaver

"In the end you will find that all things are connected, like a tightly wound rope. Tug one strand and you will see how the fibers pull and twist together; such is the case with life.”

Julian Fairstone, Fairstone Family History



The silence of a long-past winter night was cut by a strange and sudden minor explosion; it was the sound of air making room for a body brought forth by magic, a body that only a moment before had not been there.

The body was a man, and a wizard. He was young and full of the vigor most people have at the age that ends the teenage years and begins early adulthood. His hair shone white in the pale winter moonlight as he crossed a small field to an old abandoned house.

The house he approached was old and far past its grand days of being considered an acceptable place to live. It was just the kind of house where one might expect to find ghosts or some other manner of frightful creature hiding inside its decrepit walls.

The young man moved to the door of the house and walked in; he did not pause or show any indecision as he entered. He walked directly up a staircase near the entrance, still never hesitating or showing signs of worry.

He held in his hand a long cane; its end took the form of a snake head with eyes that gleamed a fierce green in the dim light that greeted him at the top of the stairs. It was now that the young man paused, seeming unsure. Though no sign of worry crossed his face, one might have thought that he was a little wary of continuing.

“He waits for you … I would suggest you not linger,” an unseen person’s voice said from the darkness. The young man made no comment or acknowledgement, he simply walked forward towards a door, its edge lit by light from the other side.

The young man pressed his hand to the door and turned the knob; he slowly entered the room; as if he were entering into the presence of a king. The room was lit by many candles but once inside it still seemed dim; it was as if the darkness inside the room held a hint of some being that light did not cling to.

The room was without much furniture; no fire was lit in the fireplace that hung on a far wall. Instead at the room’s center was a solitary chair. On it sat a person whose face was inhuman and frightening to look upon.

In his youth, this man had been considered handsome and charming; now he was simply considered an evil monster to those who feared him, and to those who were loyal followers he was simply called the Dark Lord.

The young man that now entered this room did not pause until he stood in front of the Dark Lord. A moment of measured silence drew out between them before the Dark Lord decided to speak.

“Ah … Lucius, my young and most loyal servant,” said Voldemort as Lucius Malfoy bowed before him. There was an unsure expression on Lucius’ face and he did not look up to meet the Dark Lord’s eye. Voldemort motioned for him to stand.

“It is a great loss to our cause that your grandfather has died,” the Dark Lord began as Lucius slowly stood. “Though he and your father never took the Mark, he allowed you, his only grandson, to be my most loyal and devoted servant. Your father also claims allegiance, though I worry that he is not as faithful as you, Lucius,” praised Voldemort in a voice that sounded sympathetic.

“He supports you, my lord; he has always been faithful to you,” Lucius replied with a voice that held no emotion, even though his grandfather had died only a few days ago.

“Now you are in a place to serve me in an even better capacity than you were before. I see opportunity for the cause in your grandfather’s demise,” Voldemort announced, ignoring the comment. He rose and moved closer to Lucius.

Lucius stood a bit stiffly as Voldemort moved around behind him; he dare not move or turn, lest he bring the Dark Lord’s wrath upon him.

“Your grandfather was a governor of Hogwarts, was he not?” Voldemort questioned, still out of sight.

“Yes, my lord. He knew that one day the school would serve only those you deemed acceptable. He saw it as an honor to you, once our goals could be met,” Lucius answered; a nervous flutter entered him as the Dark Lord moved into view beside him. Voldemort placed a hand upon Lucius’ shoulder.

“I wish for you to take up the position your grandfather held,” Voldemort ordered and moved to sit back down.

“But … my lord. I am too young … the other Governors will look down upon me because of that, they would never …” Lucius stopped when Voldemort’s gaze changed to show impatient anger.

“Be silent and listen to me,” scolded Voldemort. Lucius cast his eyes down meekly, almost as if he had been slapped.

“You will easily find the position you seek, after you have shown yourself suitable and have been accepted by the Ministry and the other Governors,” offered Voldemort with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Lucius dare not comment, but he was not exactly sure how this would be accomplished. The Dark Lord seemed ready to continue to tell him without further prompting.

“First, you and your father must donate some of your gold to various … charities … and to the school. Show yourself to be the good citizen and a model of the magical community. Let them believe what they want about your opinions on filthy Muggles, but go to their frivolous parties and social gatherings and be seen with those who are most favored by the Ministry. Make yourself acceptable in their eyes, use your family name and insinuate yourself into their ranks,” Voldemort explained. He stopped a moment to study the young Malfoy.

“The position has been filled, my lord. How shall we remove the man that has taken my grandfather’s place?” Lucius asked, but a sudden sparkle in his eyes showed that he might know the answer already.

“We will be patient, my young servant. At the right time … he will be dealt with. It is then that you will offer your services … and I am sure you will be easily accepted into the position,” Voldemort answered. Lucius smiled with devious intent.

“You are wise, my lord, far more than I,” Lucius praised and bowed to appease his master. Voldemort in turn gave Lucius a dark stare but nodded a second later and then seemed to be in thought.

“My lord, may I ask the reason … you wish to give this honor to me?” questioned Lucius in a submissive voice. A sudden hint of a smile crossed Voldemort’s lips as he continued to stare at Lucius.

“We must cultivate the fields we have, dear servant,” Voldemort began in a silky tone. “Many young minds are wasted on that fool, Albus Dumbledore. When I think of what we could teach, of the troops that could be at my disposal … and yet, I still sit here with no army and few supporters. While that old fool fills students’ heads with his foolish notions of Muggles and equality … our ideals and our way of life are being corrupted and destroyed by the filthy Muggle world.”

Voldemort had become somewhat agitated as he continued his speech. He seemed as if he might want to take his anger out on someone, but a moment later he soothed his face to appear almost pleasant. He watched Lucius continue to stand nervously before him.

“Tell me, Lucius. How many students serve us at the school?” asked Voldemort curtly. Lucius assumed a rather worried expression and did not reply at first. Something hit him a few second later and his face brightened, as if realizing the Dark Lord’s desires.

“Yes … you see now why I wish you to be in a place of power at the school. I want you to be my farmer of wizards. You will test the field, you will find the fertile ground, you will plant the seeds,” pronounced Voldemort. To Lucius it sounded like a noble task. He listened intently as Voldemort continued.

“Sift young ones who we can bring over to our side. Seek the ones who have certain … needs. Find me followers who are not only powerful in talent, but who in time will be feared,” he suggested darkly.

An almost content smile came to Lucius’ young face, as if perhaps he feared he had been brought to meet the Dark Lord for other reasons, but now realized he was being given a great honor instead.

“What sort of needs should they require, my lord, what should I look for?” asked Lucius, unsure now of exactly what sort of child would be acceptable.

“You will know when you find them,” Voldemort informed in a very cold voice. “They may be popular … but in need of guidance. They may be shunned, unpopular … and desire acceptance. They may be weak … and crave power. They may be stupid and simply need to be led. Any need we can fill, any want … we can give them. Bring me the ones that hunger for more; the ones who need the most are the ones who I will accept.”

“My lord, I will do my best to find those you seek … I hope I will not fail you,” Lucius said proudly, but there was a slight waver to his voice. Whether it was fear or excitement, it was really hard to say.

“I do not reward failure, Lucius Malfoy. A man can suffer and not even be touched by a curse from my wand. Remember that,” Voldemort promised and then waved Lucius away, dismissing him.

Young Lucius nodded and quickly left the Dark Lord. He was quite smug in the knowledge he had been chosen for this special task.

As the young Malfoy made his way home that night, he began to ponder the students at Hogwarts. He went through the faces and listed the names in his mind.

He quickly filed away in memory certain students he had taken note of who he was sure would accept and follow the Dark Lord. Then his mind hit upon a young one, a boy he recollected who was unpopular and unremarkable in appearance. The only thing he really remembered was that the boy had promise in his abilities and magical talent.

“Severus Snape,” he said the name aloud as he studied his own home from a distance. He remembered the boy being unkempt, scrawny, and disliked even by some of his fellow house students. Still, Lucius recalled the fierce nature the small boy had when taking on a couple of Gryffindors, two against one; the boy had not given up, even though outnumbered.

He also remembered the boy could be dangerous when cornered, and even more so when provoked. Beyond that, Lucius had taken little notice of him while still at school. Now he realized this sort of boy might be exactly what the Dark Lord was seeking.

He had little knowledge of the boy’s background and only minimal knowledge of the boy’s desires. One thing he did know was the boy fit the Slytherin mold in many ways. Lucius was sure of at least that much.

Perhaps a test … a first try with this boy to see where it would lead. It would be easily done; there were still students at school connected with Lucius’ family and their circle of friends. It would be quite easy to have one of them bring the boy in. After that it should be a simple matter to persuade him over to their ways and ideals.

Lucius moved off towards his home, excited to share the news with his father of the great honor he had been given.