Forged Beginnings

He didn't watch. He turned his head, and listened as Wendelin screamed. Tears rolled down his face. A crowd had gathered around, chanting, but all he could hear was her screams. He fell to his knees, and was vaguely aware of more screaming, it wasn't until he felt heat rise around him that he realized the screaming was coming from his mouth.

"Father, GO!" someone shouted in his ear. Flames were licking his face, the small babe he carried in his arms had stopped her wailing, and he quickly realized she wasn't breathing. "Leave her, she's gone. We love you father, GO! Quickly, we cannot lose you as well!"

He looked around for the voice, but saw no one. Where would he go? He needed to leave. He quickly discarded his cloak when he saw flames climb up the wool. With a loud "POP" he apparated, using years of training more than actual thought to accomplish the task. He felt himself start to collapse before two arms caught him and he lost consciousness.

Someone was tapping his face. His head hurt. His legs hurt. He didn't want to open his eyes. Smoke. Fire. Death. Death...they were dead. His family. His wife. His children. Dead. Someone was tapping his face. "Father, GO!" Was Marcus alive? No. Gone. He's gone. Someone was tapping his face. Wendelin. Wendelin was burned. They burned her alive. "Suffer not a witch to live," They had cried. So they burned her alive. Someone was tapping his face. They burned their children. The littlest hardly a year. He held her, he had grabbed her, she died in his arms. Someone was tapping his face. He cried. He screamed. They took his family away. They were gone. He was gone. He wanted...needed to die. Someone was splashing water on his face.

He sputtered, and opened his eyes, wincing at the light in the room. Someone muttered something and the light dimmed to a more tolerable level. He was with wizards. A harsh voice spoke behind him.

"Damian Malfoy, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Damian would recognize the voice anywhere. "Sir, they're gone."

"I am no longer your, nor anyone's teacher, and I am, nor have I ever been a knight, we are equals. Call me by my given name. Who are gone?"

A cold shock settled over him and he responded. "My family. All of them."

Salazar Slytherin walked around to Damian's side, and sank to a seated position near his legs. "Another witch hunt?"

"Yes..."

"Were there others in your village?"

"No. None that were discovered. None would speak up on Wendelin's behalf. She didn't even do any witchcraft that they discovered! A child died while she was the midwife attending the birth. She tried to save the baby! She never would have hurt a fly!"

"I know, Damian, I taught her as well. It's those accursed muggles. Their damned bible, and their foolish superstitions."

"We thought we could help, we thought that maybe if they got to know us, as people, as friends and neighbors, they wouldn't hate us so."

"Now do you see why I wish not to have muggleborns at Hogwarts? Simply sending the letter can be a death sentence to the child."

"Sir, I never..."

"I know, but I couldn't stay any longer. I left the school to the other three founders' blunders."

"Then where..."

Salazar sneered, "You are at my estate. You must have apparated to me-rather than to a place, I didn't think you that talented."

"They're gone."

"You said that. You are alive. You are truly worthy of my house."

Numbness overtook him. His family was gone, forever. His wife, his children, his life...gone. He would not show weakness in front of his mentor. He would not break down.

"Rest, child. If you are to stay here, you will earn your keep." Salazar held a goblet to his lips, and he recognized the smell of a strong sleeping draught.

"Yes, sir." He let his head rest against the arm of the chaise longue and went to sleep.

******

Damian stayed with Salazar for two years. Working for the man, and creating new spells. He tried desperately to think nothing of his former life. At night it was harder--he dreamed of his children and Wendelin almost constantly.

He had been concentrating on creating a new spell to allow children to apparate without the fear of splinching. "Portus" he said, pointing his wand at a chair. Carefully he touched it, and with a tug from behind his bellybutton, he appeared in front of Salazar's sitting room fire.

Salazar looked up from the desk in which he was sitting, seemingly unsurprised at Damian's discovery. He pointed at the chair across from him. "Sit."

He sat.

"You have been here for two years. You seem to have just found a solution to the problem you have been searching for. Now, you need to solve another, more important problem."

Damian blinked. "Salazar, what problem?"

"You have no heir. You need one. What good was surviving your family's demise if you do not produce an heir?"

"I..."

"Leave. Go back to Hogwarts. There are witches there. Purebloods. Produce an heir."

"I can't. Not yet. Not until...Salazar, I cannot, until I can be sure that any child I father will not die. I cannot bear to see another child of mine die."

"Everyone dies."

"How can you say that? Your children are grown with children of their own. You never had to hear their cries. You never..."

"Everyone dies. What you need to ensure is that your children do not die before they have produced grandchildren. You have the potential to be one of the best spell writers of our time. I have faith in your abilities. Now do what you must. You have one more year before you must leave."

Hanging his head, he left his mentor's presence. He grabbed some parchment and started writing out what he would need.

******

Flames. Blood. Semen. Incantation. Hair. Breath. Tears. Incantation. Explosion.

Salazar rushed to Damian, and held his chin between his thumb and forefinger, staring him in the eyes. "What have you done, foolish boy? What have you done?"

"I've done what you told me to do. My line is secure. I cannot die until I have produced an heir. Neither can he die until he has done the same."

"Did you not see any drawbacks in what you have done?"

"Sir?"

"How much magic did you use? What kind of magic did you use?"

"As much as was needed. Blood...heart magic. It is bound to me and my line for eternity."

"You foolish, foolish boy. You've bleached your line!"

"Bleached?"

"See for yourself." He pushed Damian in front of a mirror. Damian stared in disbelief. His once almost black hair was now a white blond; his chestnut eyes a cold gray. His skin had become paler too, but none of it was as noticeable as his hair.

Damian lifted a hand to his hair, expecting it to fall out. When it didn't, he sighed in relief. "It isn't so bad..." he started.

Salazar scowled, "What other drawbacks are in this little curse you put on your line?"

"I..."

"OUT WITH IT!"

"All of my descendants will be only children. It is the only way I could guarantee that they would not die until they produce a male heir."

"One male Malfoy, per generation, for eternity? Any other drawbacks?"

"Not that I am aware of, although I wasn't expecting to be bleached."

"Now all you need is a wife. Go."

Salazar turned, his cloak billowing behind him, and left Damian without so much as a goodbye.

******

Damian entered Hogwarts, a place he hadn't been to in years, and tried to remember how to get to the Headmaster's office. Children bustled around him, running to classes they were sure they were going to be late for. He smiled, then sighed, fighting back tears. Marcus should be here now. He turned and made his way down a long corridor. Lost in his thoughts, he slammed into a woman carrying a large stack of books. He helped her pick them up, looked at her, and gasped.

"Wendelin! You...your..."

She tilted her head and looked at him. "Damian? You've changed, but it's you. But you...you died..."

"No...I heard your screaming stop...I apparated away. Where, how?"

"I created a new charm on the spot. Not quite sure how. But it freezes flames. It...I...it almost tickles. I couldn't get to the children in time. I tried. I tried to find you, to save you." She was crying freely now, and fell into his arms.

He held her, no longer able to hold back the tears he had been fighting for so long. The two of them had a lot to catch up on.