Son of Serpents

Andromeda Tonks looked all of her fifty years when she answered the door to her Edinburgh home. Her hair was making a rough transition from dark brunette to light grey;streaks of both wrapped themselves into a neat bun atop her head. A brilliant blue shawl of rich cloth draped across her shoulders, and when she squinted up at Severus Snape, crows feet deepened in the corners of her eyes and lips.

"Don't look at me so, professor. I'm a newly widowed woman and not yet ready to enjoy such arduous glances. Contain yourself."

Severus blinked, momentarily thrown off his train of thought.

"Pardon me for being so foward," he recovered, raising an eyebrow. "I assume you know why I'm here."

"Of course I do, child," she sighed. " I'm just disappointed in Dumbledore for not sending someone more amusing. I was hoping for Professor Binns at the least."

"I could juggle if you get too terribly bored," Severus drawled, letting himself be led into the house and out of the drizzle. He noticed Andromeda looking up and down the street carefully before closing the door, without dropping her playful tone.

It was a nice home, if somewhat small. Although it was too well furnished and richly decorated for a true muggle house, it still managed to fit in the purely muggle city. It was an altogether quiet home–no servants scurried about in the background.

So this is what divorcing yourself from the great House of Black gets you, Severus pondered, sitting where he was instructed to on a sofa. Although she seemed to pay him no mind, he could see that she had put effort into a little tea and biscuit arrangement. They remained silent as she fixed him a cup, handing it to him with the barest tremble.

"I see that you have no intention of filling me in on any gossip, although I live so very unconnected to the Wizarding World," she said, sitting back in her chair.

"That's of your own devices, Widow Tonks. Nothing is keeping you here anymore," he reminded her.

"Well I certainly have no intention of giving up this life after so many years! Not all of us can risk showing our faces again in the Wizarding World after earning the scorn of so many."

Even though this was a jab at Severus, her voice wasn't condemning. Whether born into or choosing a place among Death Eater elites, both of them had to break free--both had to sacrifice to get where they were today. She didn't hold it against the ex death eater, but that didn't mean she'd stop plying him for gossip.

"So, I heard the Minister of Magic refused Sirius Black an honorable burial..." she prompted.

"Madam, if that is the most recent news you can come up with, I would highly suggest you find some new sources." Severus put down his tea, reached into his overcoat pocket, and pulled out an envelope. "Headmaster Dumbledore has sent me here, concerning this letter you sent him last week. The Ministry is very concerned." Snape opened the letter–Andromeda caught a glimpse of her own delicate cursive on rosebud stationary. His eyes darkened as he held it out for her to confirm.

The letter read:

Dear Headmaster,

     I hope this letter finds you well enough. Don't be alarmed if the envelope is speckled with blood–I haven't sent a letter like this in so long I fear that my owl has become fat and irritable, and will probably attempt to nip me for trying.

     But jests aside, I find I can no longer hesitate to send the Ministry this letter. It pains me to even write these words, because I have kept them a secret for so long. As you know, I am very good at keeping secrets–ever since I met Ted and abandoned the Black family values, my entire life has been about secrets and hiding.

     But I never, not for one moment, forgot my family, even throughout the war and their disgrace. So when my sister Bellatrix bid me come to her in Azkaban, I obeyed her wishes.

     I had never seen the inside of that forsaken place, and hadn't seen Bella in years. So seeing her like she was, both at once abnormally calm and seething hysterically, was very unsettling. It made my stomach turn to see my once-beautiful sister in that state; it even made me fear the Ministry for a time. So when she thrust a hidden bundle into my arms, out of the guards view, it was easy for me to remain silent when I realized that the bundle was a new born child.

     The baby himself was in one piece, if malnourished and dirty. She had born a son–hers and Rudolphus's- in that place. I shuddered to see the stains of childbirth in her cell...were her labor pains and screaming so commonplace that they didn't even alert the guards? She looked me in the eye, nodded, and muttered, "Kierandus Lestrange," before pressing a finger to her lips.

     I have kept her son for 16 years since that night, Dumbledore. I have raised him as my beloved nephew, sending him to a Muggle academy and teaching him magic at home. I've tried not to lie to Kierandus, but his questions grow everyday.

     I do not seek your forgiveness for my actions, Dumbleldore, because I know they've kept him safe. There were many after the war that would hurt the child to enact revenge on his parents. I couldn't let that happen to a little boy, especially one who shares my blood. But I do apologize for not bringing him foward sooner.

     Since hearing of her Azkaban breakout, I've dreaded the arrival of Bell on my stoop taking back her son and destroying everything I have built in him. She hasn't come yet, but now that I've gotten news of You-Know-Who's near success in the Ministry, I cannot hesitate any longer. Thusly, I place Kierandus in your kind hands. Please send someone for him at once.

Respectfully, Widow Andromeda Black Tonks

Andromeda didn't re-read the letter. Like Severus, she knew it almost word for word. It had caused an uproar in the Ministry; although Dumbledore had presented the letter straightaway, seeking to handle the situation directly and openly, the Ministry immediately shushed the notion. They instructed Dumbledore to investigate, but to do so behind closed doors. In this rocky period for the Ministry, they couldn't risk further degrading their reputation.

Severus knew it to be nonsense–the truth would come to light as soon as a reporter caught wind of it, and that would be soon, knowing the snitches in the Ministry.

That is, if there really was a child. The probability that no one had detected a Lestrange child for 16 years was slim, but Andromeda Tonks had been well regarded in her time. Although, there was speculation that her decades of seclusion had driven her a little batty.

"You've come for him, then?" Andromeda's expression was suddenly rigid.

"If this letter is true, then yes," he answered.

"Of course it's true! Your think I'd--"

"Is the child here?" Snape interrupted.

He noticed her pause before answering. The sign of someone with something to hide.

"He's in the community greenhouse practicing Herbology."

Snape nodded, standing up. "I'll find him." He noticed her looking more plaintive by the moment, and steeled himself by recalling her reference to him as "child" just minutes ago. "You'll want to pack his things while I do. Have you told him that he'll be leaving?"

"Yes...he's expecting to be taken to Hogwarts for further schooling in magic. He's looking f-foward to it." She looked away suddenly, swallowing the emotion that shook her steady voice.

Snape did not feel pity her. He was drowning in brats if she really wanted one. Besides, she had been harboring the son of two of the most dangerous fugitives the Wizarding World had ever known, making the Ministry look like fools. It was too late for discussions, and she knew it.

"What's to be done with my nephew?"Her voice was just more then a whisper.

"I won't be making that determination, madam."

You should be thankful of that, he added mentally, making his way to the back of the house. He wasn't pleased to be playing Dumbledore's delivery man, but he conceded that, out of anyone, the child would be safest with him. If intercepted by Death Eaters, Severus would be able to keep them both out of harms way.

     The greenhouse was larger then he had expected–a large arc of glass framed in ivy, set in the center of several apartment buildings. Snape felt his heart quicken as he approached it, against all of his determination not to feel anything one way or another. It's merely a boy. Another insipid, whining brat.

Of course, most brats didn't inherit pure poison for blood. Most boys weren't born in Azkaban cell, their parents feeding off the murders of innocents. Most boys didn't come from a solid line of purebloods who thrived on superiority and vengeance. It would almost be foolish to expect otherwise from a child born from that.

The greenhouse was a dry, warm alternative to the damp outside. Severus brushed the raindrops from his overcoat and suddenly froze at the sound of laughter. It was a high pitched bark, followed by a clatter and shuffling. Snape felt himself silently drawing near the sound, despite his better judgement to announce his presence and drag the boy outside immediately.

But his curiosity was too strong, and before he knew it, he was half-hidden beside an overgrown fern, getting his first glimpse of Bellatrix Lestrange's son. And it was definitely her son. His hair matched hers in it's shade of pitch black, shorn close to his scalp in little curls. His eyes glinted, dark and bright, and his frame was lean and small like most of the Blacks; and when he grinned, Severus was irked to see a jaw line resembling one Sirius Black too closely for comfort.

But it was the grin itself that was a dead giveaway–the looseness of those thin lips, curled into an easy smile. On Bellatrix, it was a smile from hell. On the boy, it was just a smile–but Severus could hardly see past it's likeness to his mother's, and wondered if any one else would be able to either.

Kierandus Lestrange sat cross-legged on a table with his back bowed over a large pot of plants. He was totally absorbed with it's light blue blossoms, which swayed under his wand. He glanced at an old text book that lay open on the table next to him; he mumbled, and the flowers deepened to a dark blue hue.

He mumbled again, and they sprouted violently in his face. He gave another bark of delight, but the pot tumbled from his lap, bursting open and growing at an alarming rate. Sliding off the table, Kierandal's heavy lidded eye's widened, but so did his smile.

"Stupefy!" He ordered, baring his wand in front of him like a fencer would a sword. The flowers withered in places, but on a whole, the growing didn't cease.

Severus had seen enough. Stepping from the shadows, he swept his wand from his pocket.

"Reducio!"Severus watch the plant freeze, then shrivel at an amazing speed back to it's former self.

Kierandus's eyes swept over Severus, and he immediately stood up straight. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank you Professor Snape," Snape corrected, and snarled at the boy. "Your carelessness is atrocious. I could have been any Muggle, walking in here to get an eyeful of this disaster. You can be certain it will be noted in my report. Consider yourself lucky that your no student of mine–after expelling you, I would personally snap your wand for such a reckless display."

The only sign that Kierandus absorbed any of this was that his dark eyebrows shot up. "Am I to be your student, sir?"

Snape wasn't sure how to answer that, so he didn't. "Your ignorant, even for a child, so I will excuse your attempt to question me. All you need to know is that I'm here for you."

"That's so sweet, sir." Kierandus's eyes twinkled. "Especially considering we just met."

     "Fool! I am here to escort you to Hogwarts,"Severus corrected angrily. "Which I intend to do within the hour. Your have between now and then to get your things together and say goodbye to your aunt."

Kierandus's smile faded slightly at that news. He tucked the wand into his jeans and started for the exit. "For the record, I knew you were there the whole time," he tossed over his shoulder.

One second later, he was being jerked backwards by the collar, and was staring into the cold dark tunnels of Severus's eyes.

"I wouldn't make an enemy of me, boy," Severus hissed, his face inches away. "God knows you will have enough of those to occupy your time, Kierandus Lestrange."

Kierandus was quiet, as any 16 year old would be in the face of someone so livid. Slowly, evenly, he answered, "Well, if you are to be my first friend in the Wizarding World, Professor Snape, then you should call me Kieran."

Severus examined the boy's eyes for sarcasm, but found none. After a moment, he released Kierandus, growling, "How truly blessed I am."

He gave the boy a shove, and they walked in silence back to the house.