God of the Underworld

Chapter 1

Second Chances

The headmaster stared at the young man in front of him, loathing that it had come to this. What was worse was that the boy completely knew it as well. He was slouched down as far as he could possibly go in the chair in front of the desk, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking with interest at his white tennis shoes.

"Mr. Silver," he began strongly, "You know why you are here, and you know what I must do as well. You have given me no choice in the matter. I have given you chance after chance, but I gave you an ultimatum last time, and you did not heed it, Mr. Silver."

The seventeen year old addressed as Mr. Silver muttered a, "yes sir," not bothering to look up.

"As much as I would like to give you yet another chance, because of the unfortunate accident with your mother, I cannot. Especially since you sent five students, five, Mr. Silver, to the mediwitch in serious condition. This is a private academy of magic, and many parents are paying a very large sum of money to send their children here. While other institutions may be happy with handing out detention after detention, we are not. Despite the fact that you surpass our high standard of intelligence, perhaps more than any student we have seen recently, you have proven time and again that you cannot hold up to our high standard of behavior."

"I have made an effort," the young man said, scowling. This was tedious for him, especially as he also knew that the headmaster knew that the circumstances of his behavior weren't what they really seemed.

"I know you have made an effort, and I would like to keep you here, but the school board of directors disagrees. However, I have taken the opportunity to help you find another school. Another very good school with a good opportunity for you as well, Mr. Silver."

Now, with complete interest, the young man looked up with his color-changing hazel eyes. They looked very catlike today, a yellow-green.

"Headmaster, you've found another school that would be willing to take me?"

"Yes, I have, because I would like to see you excel, Mr. Silver. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School is an old friend of mine from the days of Grindelwald, and I have taken the liberty of contacting him for two reasons."

The boy cocked his head of black hair with interest.

The headmaster continued, "First of all, Hogwarts is a great school with a great reputation. Second of all, Mr. Silver, Hogwarts has a very highly esteemed Potions master, the best in Europe, and I know your talent in that subject is beyond compare. Perhaps if you behave yourself and mind your manners you can convince him to apprentice you."

The boy's eyebrows raised slightly and new seeds of hope filled his unnatural eyes, and this was the only gift the headmaster could make to him. Politics dictated what he must do, whether he agreed with it or liked it, but he would not send this boy from his school without any hope for a future armed with only a painful past and a lot of hate. He would not hammer the proverbial last nail into the coffin because the boy was a blood traitor, or illegitimate, or any number of the other suggestions he had heard from his staff.

"It is my sincere hope, Mr. Silver, that you make the best out of this opportunity."

"Thank you, sir," he said solemnly, " and I'm sorry." Perhaps the man was sympathetic to why he was such a problem. Afterall, Headmaster Stangle did not seem like a prejudiced or a stupid man.

"No need to apologize, Mr. Silver, you have done that enough previously. Since you cannot return here in a few weeks when term starts, I would like for you to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore soon to review your schedule. Perhaps I can arrange for you to meet Professor Snape as well, he is the Potions master."

The boy raised an eyebrow at this, not willing to believe that this school would hold any better future for him than Scyon Academy. After everything, he'd be lucky if he could sell himself for all the galleons in his trust fund to a Master willing to apprentice him.

* * *

Headmaster Dumbledore stared at the transfer papers in front of him, wondering what exactly he had agreed to.

Although plenty of his own students had very colorful school records, such as the Weasley twins, he was a little wary of the boy who had been in at least one major fight each year of his schooling that was reported to the headmaster. He had a suspicion that there were quite a few that did not make the file. Not to mention numerous of other minor infractions that were reported - particular cases of insubordination with one professor. Many of them indeed.

His old friend Headmaster Stangle had assured him that the boy had a very good heart and an able mind, but was a little rough around the edges. A little rough seemed to be a bit of an understatement. Stangle had been fairly vague, which made the headmaster think that there was more to the story that Stangle could not communicate, perhaps for more political reasons.

To tell the truth, the young man's OWL results were impressive. More OWLs than he had seen from one of his students in quite a few years. The Silver boy had O's in both the practical and written for five subjects (Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Runes, and Herbology) and a perfect mark in Potions, not missing a single point. Silver had another slew of O's and E's on top of that, including those in several subjects not taught at Hogwarts. It was remarkable actually, but also explained how the headmaster had managed to keep him enrolled in such an elite private school for so long despite his behavioral record.

When the sound of his gargoyle moving met his ears, he quickly closed the file open on his desk and waited to see what this young man looked like. Perhaps another Draco Malfoy, especially coming from Scyon Academy...pureblooded and arrogant.

The knock on the door came swiftly, and Dumbledore opened it with a wave of his hand.

It opened to reveal a very tall young man, with perfect milky skin, and long, wavy blue-black hair that was falling out of it's tie at the back of his neck. What was most striking, however, were his very singular eyes. They were hazel, patterned like a fireburst, with many different colors in them. They were currently looking observant. Overall, he appeared as if he would be a quiet person, one that preferred to examine everything around him. The headmaster was very good at judging character at a glance. This boy certainly did not hold himself like a Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Silver, I presume," the headmaster stated, looking over his spectacles

"Yes, sir," the boy answered, nodding politely.

"Well, well, sit down. Lemon Drop?"

The young man stared at him softly with curiosity.

Dumbledore kept his watch carefully on the young man, afterall, his previous school was known for harboring some very ardent and wealthy purebloods. If the young man was impulsive and had a quick trigger for fighting, the headmaster did not see it in his demeanor.

"Lemon drop, Headmaster?"

The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling as always, but behind them in the recesses of his mind, this was a little test.

"Oh yes, they are a Muggle candy, Mr. Silver. One of our many Muggleborn students introduced me to them a few years ago. Try one."

The boy's expression didn't change at all with the references to Muggles. His only movement was to lean forward in his seat and look at the proffered dish in speculation.

"Rather ordinary looking, sir. I suppose if they are Muggle candies they are rather harmless," he said, taking one out.

The headmaster began to wonder if the boy just took the candy to be polite. Nevertheless, he was the first person in a long time who had actually taken a lemon drop from him. He smiled genuinely.

"So, Mr. Silver, let's get started, shall we? First, I'd like to talk about why you were expelled from your old school?"

For a few moments, the young man didn't speak, but then he began cautiously.

"I'd prefer to leave the past behind me, sir," he said, but the headmaster could feel something there just behind the boy's eyes.

This was not going to be easy.

"I'd prefer we leave it there as well, Mr. Silver, but I'd like to know the circumstances if I am to allow you to attend this school?"

The boy stared at him, a most impertinent look on his face. It was pretty clear that he had no intentions of explaining himself.

"Mr. Silver, you will explain or you will not be attending this school either, or perhaps I will get some Veritaserum."

A small sardonic smile appeared on the boy's face. "I am immune, Headmaster."

This statement surprised Professor Dumbledore, but he pushed that back in his mind and said, "Then I repeat, you will explain, or you will not attend Hogwarts."

The stare that served as his answer did not make him want an explanation any less. Perhaps a different mode of questioning would get him the answers that he wanted.

"Do you enjoy getting into trouble, Mr. Silver?"

Shifting, as if being wary of a possible trap, the boy answered, "No, sir."

"Do you enjoy dueling and fist fights?" he asked, as if this were surely the correct answer.

"No, sir."

"Do you enjoy detentions?"

"No, sir," he answered once more, this time looking down at his knees.

"Then why have you been involved in so many confrontations, Mr. Silver? Right or wrong there must be some explanation. I have not passed any judgment on you."

After a few minutes of calm appraisal, he answered, "I was not the instigator, sir. I was repeatedly attacked and no one sought to do anything about it. If I didn't fight back and turn the odds in my favor a bit, well, the others were just as violent as I and there were more of them."

Frowning at how this could be the case, Dumbledore said, "I have a very difficult time believing that no Professor would do anything to prevent something like that."

The boy scowled darkly. "Now you know why no Professor would do anything about it, sir...You yourself have a hard time believing it. What's more, five of them could be very careful about exactly what was visible and control their curses accordingly. I hardly had that luxury against five of them or more. I countered in any way possible. And what Professor would be willing to stick his neck out for me, sir, given that evidence and the word of five against one?"

This caused Dumbledore to sit back in his seat, needing to put new consideration on this information. Five boys causing enough injury that this boy would be willing enough and desperate enough to break limbs, cause burns, and lacerations to keep it from happening again, or to slow them down at it, was astonishing and horrible.

"You have done some very serious damage in some of these altercations. What did they do to you to merit this?"

"I don't give excuses, and I'm not looking for pity, sir. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Unfortunately, I need to know because you are a certain risk to admit here as well. As you must understand."

The boy turned his head away, set his jaw, and took in a large breath through his nose. All evidence that suggested that the boy had never told anybody about this, ever, and that it was significantly painful to even talk about. Something that perhaps disturbed Dumbledore even more.

Overexaggerated half-truths would have been more welcome to the headmaster's ears, but given the circumstances he felt the boy's words were underexaggerated half-truths. That put a pit in his stomach.

Finally the boy said, very matter-of-factly, "Applied in very short bursts, certain curses, like the Cruciatus, don't leave any marks... That should be enough for you to know, sir. Like I said, I do not wish to discuss it, but I also do not mean any disrespect by it."

"And why would they risk such behavior?" Dumbledore asked, in his most even voice. He did not want to voice disbelief, but he was having a difficult time stomaching this, especially if his friend Stangle had known it was going on.

"You know, Headmaster, that they teach Dark Arts there - not that any of the Professors would want us to use the Unforgiveables on each other. However, there are wards which protect their use from outside, governmental observation and that reduces outside risk. As to why they would risk punishment in school by doing it to me...It's because of my surname...Silver."

Frowning, Dumbledore said, "I'm not sure that I understand."

"The name is fake, sir. I attended an elite private school for pureblooded wizards, and I do not have the slightest inkling of my genealogy. That's rather uncommon and rather speculated about by the other students. There are only so many ways in which I might have a name which is not attached to any pureblood family, none of them desirable in those circles."

"Your mother and father have not talked to you about this matter?"

The ridge between the boy's brow deepened before he said, more quietly than he had been talking, "My father was killed when I was three and my mother died in an accident in her lab a few months ago. She never told me much, sir."

Looking over his spectacles the man asked, "What does this have to do with your behaviour and the other students'?"

The boy shrugged slightly, his face blank. "I was a blood traitor to them, with no place in their world or their school. It was sport to them. I fought back. I had no choice. Most of the Professors felt similarly and those who did not, did not feel it warranted to risk their job and their reputation for someone who was as good as a mudblood in that world. Then they targeted my younger brother. They would hold me and make me watch," he finished angrily, clenching his fists. "And then I would be punished for it, and they would simply get off with whatever I had managed to do to them to keep them off of me or Heru'ur, my brother."

Dumbledore felt very old in that moment and very distressed with the state of things in their world. The Dark and the Light were at distinct odds and those that were caught in the middle perhaps paid the price. All because of Tom Riddle.

This boy had paid the price and was perhaps more violent and impulsive for it, but was also far older in spirit than his seventeen years betrayed.

He believed the Silver boy, of course, because his intuitions told him that the boy was not lying, indeed, who would make a story like that up? But, moreoever he remembered what Stangle had said to him, "He is a smart boy, Albus, and he has a good heart that has been torn through some very difficult things. You will see this in him if you talk to him. He cannot stay here, he is like a caged animal here. He must go somewhere else for his own good, and all I can do for him is find him another school."

In a cryptic sort of a way Stangle had told him the entire story, but it made much more sense now.

* * *

After laying out a schedule of classes for the boy, Dumbledore sat back in his chair a little more comfortably, his thoughts less burdened. This was a second chance and perhaps a second chance which held much less pain in it for the future.

"I hope that you will find our curriculum here challenging enough for you. Headmaster Stangle has told me that you show exceptional skill in Potions?"

The boy shrugged slightly, a strange glitter appearing in his eyes, though otherwise unapparent on his face. "Yes, sir, my mother owned an apothecary. Wandwork is standard for most wizards and quite simple for one to learn if one possesses the necessary power, however, Potions is a much more ancient art and requires much more skill or gift."

"Such a carefully rehearsed speech," came a snide voice from the doorway.

The headmaster knew that statement had come from Severus Snape, whom he had previously invited to this meeting, once he had gotten through some of the difficult truths of Mr. Silver's transfer.

Dumbledore watched as the comment slid off the boy, and he registered no insult on the boy's face. Mr. Silver simply stood up and turned around to face Professor Snape. He gave him a gracious nod.

Snape just raised his eyebrow in disdain.

"Severus, this is Osiris Silver. Mr. Silver this is Professor Snape, our Potions master."

Osiris nodded again. "Your reputation preceeds you, sir. It's an honor to meet you."

"Such flippant and flattering speech will hardly get you anywhere with me, Mr. Silver," the man said, scowling, holding his chin a little higher and looking down his nose.

Dumbledore chuckled. "He's simply upset that you have also gotten a perfect score on your Potion's OWL."

"Hardly, Headmaster," the dark man answered with a scoff.

Osiris was staring hard at him, and the headmaster could finally begin to see the seedlings on insult implanted on his face.

"I do not flatter anyone, sir," he said flatly. He was being insulted for merely being polite. It was an offense he was used to, but it was an offense that put him on his guard by habit.

Severus' eyes narrowed in on him and he took a step closer.

The headmaster could feel that tempers were getting ready to flare as he looked from one pale face to the other.

The young man continued, trying his best not to let the anger show through his voice, "I've read your work. I have no need to flatter you, Professor, it wouldn't really be flattery would it? As to an ulterior motive...my skill and knowledge in the area will speak just fine for itself, sir."

"Really, Mr. Silver," Severus said snidely. Then he continued in a much more sinister manner, "I'll let your cheek pass without detention this time, since school is not in session, consider it a gift."

The boy stared back at him, his face impassive and unthreatened.

Professor Snape was not used to this lax of a reaction, especially from a new student. The lack of response from this pale boy, not matter how smart he supposedly was, registered as insult.

The tall, intimidating man walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar. "However, I do not tolerate students taking that tone with me. If you are to be in my class, you best learn that and some humility."

The Potion's master registered the flinch in the boy when he had grabbed him and then saw it carefully masked away behind his abnormal looking eyes. He let go when he heard the headmaster clear his throat. He knew that a, "Severus," would follow it if he did not desist, and he hated being reminded of his own days as a student, especially being in the headmaster's office.

Osiris looked at the floor after he realized that he did not want to start poorly at this new school and that he had over-reacted. Even though the Professor reminded him of another Professor he cared not to think about, he was not that man. A summer holiday worth of time had not been enough to shake those memories from just behind his awareness at every moment he breathed.

"I'm sorry, sir, that was out of line. It won't happen again," he said, trying to rein himself back in. It wouldn't be very good for his future to make an enemy of this professor if he wanted to work in potions

"Out of line indeed," he said, then he turned to Dumbledore, "What is it that you called me here for other than to run this boy's Potions OWLs by me."

Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at the man, "I was hoping that you would accompany Mr. Silver to get his books."

"I can manage myself, sir," Osiris said, hastily.

"I am sure that you could, Mr. Silver, however we have more wards on the castle at the moment which may make it difficult for you to get back on the grounds. In addition, there is no floo connection or authorized portkeys."

"Yes, sir," he said, rather dejectedly, not wanting to argue and get a second lecture.

"Why do I have to take him, Headmaster? I have to restock the infirmary before term starts, I hardly have the time. Filch can take him."

"No, Severus, I would like for you to take him. Perhaps if you act human he will offer to help you restock the necessary potions. I am sure he is more than capable of brewing the simple ones, and he is here with nothing to do for two weeks."

"I am not letting him near a cauldron unsupervised, Headmaster. Perhaps I will have him organize the storeroom or prepare ingredients for me," he added, viciously. It was the closest thing to a detention he could give the boy for his cheek earlier. An opportunity he would not miss. The boy would most certainly learn not to cross him, and he wouldn't even have to wait for term to start.

"Now I don't think-," Dumbledore began, he had been hoping that Severus would be a good person to understand Mr. Silver. They had very similar histories and, apparently, temperments.

"It's alright, sir, it's only right for me to help in whatever way the Professor will let me if he is wasting his time taking me. Especially since he is busy. I don't mind," he said quietly.

Snape picked up on the disappointment in the boy's voice, even if the headmaster had not, just as he had noted how the boy's head perked up at the mention of him brewing the simpler potions. Good, he figured, let him be disappointed. The impertinent brat can start learning a little humility now.

"If there isn't anything else, Headmaster..."

"Actually, Severus, I need to sort him so that we know where to put him for two weeks. I was hoping after his house is selected, you would show him the way there."

"Am I his personal escort now?" Snape asked, venomously.

"No, but you and I are the only professors here right now..."

"Fine, get on with it then."

Dumbledore stood up with his characteristic twinkle in his eye, reached up to the highest shelf, and pulled down the Sorting Hat.

Osiris frowned, slightly bewildered, looking at the tattered hat.

"Here, Mr. Silver, put this on and we shall see which house you will belong to. I am supposing Ravenclaw."

Snape scoffed.

"Why do you say that, sir," Osiris asked.

Dumbledore smiled, "That is the house where the most studious and intelligent among us are generally sorted," he said, but noticing the Professor's incredulous look added, "But perhaps Slytherin is a fair guess as well."

At this Professor Snape scoffed louder and raised an eyebrow in smug appraisal. This boy would learn a few quick and hard lessons if he was sorted into Slytherin.

Osiris put the hat on his head and then exclaimed, "I'm what!?" in response to what the hat had said to him.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. Snape rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

Then Osiris muttered, "Well I suppose that is true..."

The Professor has resorted to tapping his foot impatiently on the floor while the hat sat atop Mr. Silver's head for what seemed like a very long time.

Finally it blurted out "Slytherin!"

Dumbledore looked at the Professor very pleased, which was surprising for a sort to Slytherin, because it wasn't the headmaster's favorite house even though he tried to be objective. Dumbledore knew that if the boy wanted to try and convince Snape to apprentice him eventually, that was the best house for him.

Professor Snape eyed him dangerously before saying, "Very well then. I expect a lot from my house, Mr. Silver, you will learn not to disappoint or face severe consequences."

Osiris took the hat off his head and looked at the man with a little apprehension. Nobody had told him anything about Hogwarts. "Your house?" he asked, not knowing the concept.

"Ah, Mr. Silver, I completely overlooked that fact that you do not understand how our system works," the headmaster began, "Hogwarts has four houses, if you will, that students belong to, each best fit according to the students' traits. Each house has a professor as the head of that house. Because there are so many students here, each head serves as the headmaster or mistress for their house and is responsible for handling their students. Professor Snape is Head of Slytherin."

"I see," Osiris said, hoping that the man's obvious distaste for him wouldn't last his entire career at Hogwarts.

"Don't worry, Mr. Silver, Professor Snape is well known for favoring the students of his house above all others. Members of your house bear the least of his foul tempers," he said, with a slight chuckle.

"Gryffindor rumors," Snape spat, "I am no easier on my house than any other house. I just do not make a spectacle of it. You will find that my students know very well not to cross me or misbehave."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was serious or if he was just saying that to try and intimidate Osiris. He had to note that none of Professor Snape's students were disrespectful of him and generally they were well behaved. The clear exception being Mr. Malfoy and friends. Perhaps he was telling the truth.

"Well, Severus, my business with Mr. Silver is done, if you would like to escort him downstairs."

With a slight snarl, he said, "Come along, Mr. Silver."

Osiris nodded to the headmaster and said, "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled at him as Osiris followed the Potions master out the door.

* * *

Professor Snape didn't say a word to Osiris on the trip down to the dungeon, and Osiris did not say a word to him either. When they reached the Slytherin dormitories, Snape said "Viper" and walked in.

"Mr. Silver, I take it that you are a pureblood being sorted into this house?"

Osiris frowned, wondering what that was supposed to mean and not liking the possible implications, before saying, "Yes, sir." This was sounding much too similar to Scyon for him.

"I suppose that your family will be willing to pay for you to have your own room?"

"Erm, yes sir, of course," he answered. It didn't particularly matter that he didn't have a family and he wasn't about to announce it right then. He was on trust anyway and had plenty of money.

Snape began walking across the common room and Osiris followed while looking at the black leather couches and Slytherin banners.

"You will stay here then. It is the only single room available. I do suggest, however, that you keep it down as it shares one wall with my quarters."

"Yes, sir."

Snape stared down his nose at the boy, folding his arms over his chest and the front of his black robes with them. "Very well. Tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock, you will meet me in my office, which is two doors down to your left. We will take care of getting your supplies then. During these two weeks you will not be doing as you please, causing upheaval all over the castle. You should read up on your texts so that you will be ready for your classes. There is also some holiday work you should complete. If you want to go anywhere or do anything else, you will ask my permission. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

A/N

I have about 20 chapters of this story already written, so how fast I update generally depends upon how many people give me feedback. ;-)