The Serpent's Scion

Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear

Sealed with lies through so many tears

Lost from within, pursuing the end

I fight for the chance to be lied to again

You will never be strong enough

You will never be good enough

You were never conceived in love

You will not rise above

They'll never see

I'll never be

I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger

Burning deep inside me.

"Lies" by Evanesence.

They were arguing again...

He was sitting in his room, the darkness shrouding him...his only companion. Downstairs the screams and shouts echoed upwards to where he lay, wishing that there was more to life than this, a life filled with fear. So many fears for a young teenager to harbour: fear of the endless shouting, fear of emerging from his sanctuary to face the strained silence and wordless glares of hatred from his parents; fear of the strange people who would visit their home...then there was fear of the man.

He was not sure who he was, but he would hear his parents discuss him in tones of adoration, as if he was some kind of prophet or messiah.

Sometimes he would risk sneaking out of his room in order that he could catch a glance of his arrival in their mansion with his trapping of followers.

They would hold highly mysterious meetings in his parents study, people in black cloaks with hoods and white masks. As soon as they arrived they would be shown into the study to wait for the appearance of their leader. He would make his appearance a couple of minutes later, sometimes up to half an hour later, if he wanted to make a dramatic arrival. He was tall and skeletal with a pale, waxy complexion and narrow slits for eyes...serpentine eyes.

His parents would talk about him all the time, naming him the "Dark Lord" or sometimes they would just refer to him as "he."

"He will cleanse our world from Muggles and Mudbloods. He is our salvation. We live to serve him alone. You will one day take your place within his ranks as one of his followers, and when he achieves his goals and the wizarding world is his you will be rewarded beyond your dreams."

They would whisper to him, when they remembered that he existed and was not part of the stonework. They scarcely spoke to, or took any interest in, their only son, he had come to accept that this was their way.

He was a tool, an heir to the Snape family name, nothing more...someone to be manipulated and used...their property.

He had learned this lesson from an early age when he was abandoned daily. His mother had refused to nurse him as a young child leaving his welfare in the hands of the house elves.

He was treated like a house elf: spoken to like he was mentally deficient, fed scraps of food, told what to do, beaten by his father if he so much as breathed too loudly.

They disliked him, saying that he was weak and sickly and how they wished he had never been born. His mother had been trying for years to produce an heir, several miscarriages had followed. They had been overjoyed at first when he was born to them, finally a success...a male heir.

Time would show them that he was not at all what they had prayed for. As he grew he developed an appearance often attributed to the runt of the litter in puppies. He developed a sickly, pale complexion, an underfed stature and was stunted when it came to physical strength. He was the result of generations of inbreeding. The constant quest for pureblood had started to take its toll on the recent generations of Snapes. His grandfather had been extremely sickly, with a greatly diminished immune system, dying of a particularly bad dose of wizard flu in his mid-thirties.

He did, however, carry the familiar Snape family trademark hooked nose and jet black hair and eyes. As did his parents, the same looks could be found on most of the family portraits displayed around the manor.

Despite his physical setbacks, Severus Snape was very intelligent, a born scholar. He received lessons from a private tutor as did most pureblood wizards of good family name, a young witch by the name of Millicent Morrison who taught him literature, arithmetic, basic charms, German, and Latin. His parents were keen for him to be proficient in German as they intended to get him a place in Durmstrang. In addition to his tutelage with Millicent his father invested money in dark arts books that he insisted that his son study in preparation for the role he would play within the dark lord's ranks.

Unfortunately all did not go as planned.

He was summoned into his father's study a week after his eleventh birthday by a trembling house elf that went by the name of Eve. She was rather old and had been in the family's employ for years. It had been she who had taken care of him when he was a very young child, nursing him and entertaining him in order that he be kept out of his parent's way.

She stood in his bedroom doorway, trembling and wringing the hem of her dress (all the house elves in the Snape household were smartly dressed.)

"Master Sevy, the master wishes to see you in his study." she said, her voice shaking as much as her body.

"Oh, what does he want? He must need something doing, if he has remembered that I do in fact exist! Perhaps he and that banshee, who is mockingly called my mother, have finally grown tired of my presence and have decided to put me up for adoption - but I mustn't get my hopes up!" he sneered in contempt.

Eve looked worried. "Please Master Sevy, don't say anything that will anger him...he has such a bad temper!"

"I can only try Eve. That man irritates me."

"Please be careful!"

When he arrived at his father's study it was to find his father sitting facing into the fireplace. Severus gave a gasp when he saw that the head floating in the fireplace was that of the dark lord.

"What is keeping that BOY?"

"I am sorry my Lord, he is most un-cooperative at times, he is stubborn and has his own opinions. He will be punished!" his father said in response, in a tone loaded with respect and admiration, but Severus could also detect underlying fear.

Deciding not to delay any longer, he knocked on the study door and walked in.

His father turned to face him, a look of anger and warning in his obsidian eyes.

"Ah, Severus, the dark lord wishes to speak with you."

Severus crept closer to the fireplace and made to sit.

"What do you think you are playing at boy? Bow to our guest!" his father shouted, rage burning in his eyes.

Severus stood and gave an eloquent bow to the flames, although his eyes showed nothing but defiance.

The dark lord laughed aloud, a high chilling laugh that reverberated through the study.

"I like this one. He has spirit, unlike many of my follower's who are mindless and compliant. He is perfect for the task at hand!"

"Listen carefully, Severus Snape, I have a job for you. Your father has expressed a wish for you to attend Durmstrang, a worthy school, but I wish otherwise. You will accept the place that is offered to you at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. The headmaster's name is Albus Dumbledore, a bumbling, Muggle-loving old fool. He is a danger to my order, and stands between me and my rightful place in the wizarding world. You will watch him carefully, spy on all that goes on at Hogwarts and report back to your father. You will send him letters containing any information you may learn, is that clear?"

Those serpentine eyes stared him in the eye, as if trying to see into the depths of his soul.

"Yes!" he answered, gazing steadily back at him.

"Yes, my Lord!" his father bellowed.

"My Lord," Severus added.

Another high piercing laugh from the dark lord greeted this statement. "Good, but remember. I will find out if you are telling me false information, or if you are neglecting in your duties. One warning, young Snape, stay away from Albus Dumbledore and all the mud bloods...especially Muggle-borns. If I find out that you are keeping company with such unworthy beings...you will be worse off for it!"

"Do me good service and you will be rewarded. I am sure you will be a worthy addition to our cause!" he then turned to look at his father "that will be all!" With a small popping noise, he disappeared.

His father rounded on him as soon as the dark lord had disappeared, forcing him towards the study wall. "What are you playing at you stupid boy! I am disgraced to call you son, ashamed to be your sire! Are you trying to make me look a fool?"

He was advancing steadily towards Severus his teeth gnashing and his eyes flashing with pure rage. His fists were clenched at his sides, in a blur of movement he swung a fist and caught Severus a glancing blow across his jaw. He was flung across the room, landing hard on his back. He saw stars, as fought to draw breath. His father was striding towards him again when he stopped mid-stride and veered off towards his desk drawer

"No!" his father snarled "I have a better idea!"

Reaching into the drawer his hand emerged with a long dark mahogany wand. Smiling a cold, sinister smile, he spun around on his feet and slammed the study door.

Turning quickly, he strode towards his winded son, his wand raised. "I think I will teach you what pain really is...raw...undiluted pain."

With one last horrible smirk, he pointed the wand at his son.

"Crucio!"

Severus had never felt such pain before in his life! It tore through his body, ripping him apart from the inside. He curled in on himself. His hands tore at his own hair as the pain surged through his body. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs in a sharp, painful rhythm that had the force of a freight train. His breathing was coming in sharp, painful gasps that scorched his windpipe and tore at his lungs. All he could see was blinding light and blurred objects. Worst of all were the screams that were wrenched from his throat, guttural, animalistic cries of agony that filled the room... reverberated through his skull.

He did not know how long the torture lasted. He must have passed out after a while though, the last thing he remembered seeing was his father, an expression of great joy and pleasure on his face as he put his son through all the torments of hell.

Eve had found him lying there unconscious on the study room floor, barely alive. She had levitated him, using her own brand of magic, up to his room. She spent the next two days helping him recover from his ordeal. Prolonged exposure to one of the unforgivables is extremely taxing, and physically detrimental to an adult let alone an eleven year old boy.

That was where he was now, lying in his bed, listening to the never-ending tirades and arguments of his parents downstairs as they argued over his father's method of punishment.

His mother seemed to think that the dark lord would disagree with her husband's discipline, seeing as he had favoured Severus.

God forbid she would actually care about his welfare!

Severus rolled over onto his side his throat was raw from screaming, and his lips were bloody from biting down on them in pain. The overwhelming reality of his situation struck him, full force at that moment. Not only did he have to put up with his parents, he also was now the unwilling servant of a deadly serpent.

For the first time in so many years he cried, sobbing into his pillow, weeping for the life he could have had if he was someone else.