Voldemort stashed his wand in his sleeve. "I am the source of my power." He flicked his index finger and released Tobias, who immediately rose to his feet and charged at him. Severus opened his mouth to warn the Dark Lord of Tobias' fighting skill, but Lucius shushed him before he'd uttered anything. Another flick of Voldemort's finger sent Tobias crashing into a bookcase. He rose more cautiously this time and circled Voldemort, looking for a weakness to attack. Tobias slowly inched his way forward hoping to take Voldemort by surprise. His balled right fist shot forward in a flash, but was stopped by an invisible force before it connected with Voldemort's ribs. Again Tobias was flung across the room; he landed on a small table that broke under his weight. Each time Tobias was knocked down, the Dark Lord allowed him to rise and try again. Tobias began to tire, but his determination didn't wane.
Tobias sailed across the room; his head hit the fireplace mantle and set off one of Eileen's booby traps. A small grouping of poisoned darts shot out, one of which grazed Tobias' shoulder. A flick of Voldemort's finger sent the darts flying into the cushion of Tobias' chair. Tobias was dazed, tired, and breathing heavily. The poison's effect began almost immediately, but its ultimate effect took a little time. Tobias' heavy breathing turned into a struggle for breath. His chest heaved, but he was unable to draw in enough air. His skin and lips turned blue and his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. He clawed at his throat and tried to pry his mouth open even wider. It took nearly five minutes for Tobias to die.
Lord Voldemort was enraged that his fun had been taken away from him. He wanted to kill the filthy muggle himself, but was deprived of the pleasure because of Eileen's bizarre booby trap. He whirled around and stalked up the stairs in search of her. Severus moved to follow, but Lucius caught his arm.
"Best not to annoy him further, Severus."
Eileen was easy to find; her bedroom door was open and she lay on her bed in her tattered housedress. The bedroom smelled strongly of sweat and faintly of body soil. Voldemort wrinkled his nose as he entered. The ruckus downstairs had roused Eileen, but she wasn't quite able to rise just yet. The sight of Tom Riddle standing at the foot of her bed startled her and she jumped up only to get dizzy and fall back down onto her dirty yellow-stained pillow.
"What have you done to yourself, Eileen?" Voldemort's expression was dour, his voice low. "I recall a promising pureblooded young witch with many worthy suitors. And now I see a muggle-loving wretch who is too hungover to even sit up." Some of what Tom said was true. She was undoubtedly a pureblood and though she was somewhat lacking in magical ability, her keen intelligence more than made up for her magical failings. As for her suitors; yes, she had them, but they wanted to ally themselves with her powerful father and had no real affection for her.
Eileen desperately wanted a man to love her for herself, and she thought she'd found that man in Tobias. He was fun-loving and agreeable until she told him that she was pregnant with Severus and they were forced to marry for propriety's sake. Their marriage was a relatively happy one until Severus came along and Tobias learned how expensive raising a child could be. Tobias wasn't a good provider and had no intentions of becoming one. He had no interest whatsoever in his newborn son and Eileen named the baby with no input at all from Tobias. He and Eileen fought almost constantly over money and their tenuous relationship quickly crumbled.
"Are you just going to lay there, Eileen? Have you nothing to say for yourself?"
"Let me be, Tom. My life is my own business."
Voldemort was rankled by the use of his muggle name. "I—am—Lord—Voldemort," he said through gritted teeth.
A swell of aristocratic pride welled up in Eileen. "My dear father refused to call you by that ridiculous title and so do I," growled Eileen as she slowly pushed herself up to sit with her back against the bed's headboard. "Cassian Prince was a noble wizard, not a pathetic half-blood despot like you."
Voldemort's jaw tightened and his upper lip twitched. He balled his fists in temper. "Blood traitor!" he screamed. "How dare you insult me! You lie in your own filth and poison your offspring's blood! You're a disgrace to the house of Prince!" Eileen didn't need to be told that she'd shamed her family. She'd learned just how ashamed they were of her when she told them that she'd eloped with Tobias and was having his child. Her mother broke down in tears, and her father disowned her and barred her from entering the family home.
Eileen's pureblood parents wanted her to marry well and had been planning her marriage since her birth. Their own marriage had been arranged in early childhood as was common among purebloods. Although Cassian and Delilah's marriage had been pre-arranged and they had no real affection for each other, they had an understanding and an agreeable union. Cassian had expressed disappointment that Delilah was so frail and worried that she'd not be able to produce an heir. After many years and much intervention from healers, she gave birth to Eileen. Cassian had hoped for a son, but at least he had a healthy heir, and he could look forward to training a grandson.
Neither one of Eileen's parents was affectionate with her, but they provided well for her education and gave her a comfortable upbringing. She had a peaceful and protected, but lonely childhood. Delilah was a gentle disciplinarian who greatly valued learning. She was disappointed that her daughter wasn't pretty and took too much for her father. Cassian's rugged features looked appealing on a man, but not so attractive on a slight young girl. Delilah's perpetual fussing over her daughter's appearance gave Eileen a terrible sense of inferiority; she felt unlovable.
Cassian was neither a warm father, nor was he an unkind one. He never criticized his daughter's appearance, only her lack of magical skill. Cassian prided himself on his great power. He wasn't troubled by his daughter's weakness, only that she'd pass on that weakness to her male offspring.
Despite her profound disappointment in her daughter, Delilah sent a midwife and a healer to attend Severus' birth. Eileen was hopeful that her mother was warming to the idea of a half-blood grandchild. When Eileen learned that she'd had a son, she hoped that her father would come to accept him as Cassian greatly desired a male heir. Eileen wasn't daring enough to name her son after her father as she feared Cassian's wrath. She chose the name Severus after a distant and highly regarded relative from the Prince line, and chose Cassian as a middle name in the hopes that her father might view it as a sort of peace offering, a subtle way of honoring him.
Eileen wrote letters and sent pictures of baby Severus weekly. She didn't receive a reply until Severus was six-months old. Cassian's familiar spiky handwriting on the envelope made Eileen's blood run cold. The letter, also in her father's hand, informed her of her mother's passing and that she wasn't welcome at the funeral. She was further instructed to cease writing letters and to stop sending pictures of 'it'. Eileen felt a profound sense of guilt and convinced herself that her unwholesome behavior had killed her frail mother. Still, she held out hope that Cassian would take her back someday.
Severus had just turned three when Eileen grew bold enough to ask her father for help. She and Tobias had, had a frightful row and Eileen was covered in bruises. It wasn't the first time Tobias had hit her, but it was by far the most severe beating she'd taken. Eileen apparated outside the menacing front gates of her father's manor house; little Severus, who stood by her side, promptly vomited. Sidelong apparation was frowned upon for young children, but Eileen had no other means of transportation. She wore a cloak with a hood to cover the bruises on her face. She'd expected a house-elf to greet her and shivered with trepidation when she saw a tall, black-haired, broad-shouldered, and imperious figure clad in black robes with a modest amount of gold adornment striding toward her.
"You were warned not to come here." Cassian's low silky voice was dangerously soft.
"Please, Father, hear me out," begged Eileen.
Cassian folded his arms across his chest. "Speak."
"I'm sorry, Father," blurted Eileen. "I've shamed you, and I'm sorry. I made a terrible mistake. I know that now."
"You made two," replied Cassian, unmoved.
Eileen pulled her hood away from her face revealing the blackened eyes, bruised cheeks, and swollen split lips. She hoped to melt her father's stern icy countenance. Cassian's expression didn't change, but his right index finger, on his wand hand, began to rapidly tap against his upper arm. He was furious. Little Severus clung to the back of his mother's cloak. She reached down and pulled him in front of her. Cassian flicked his eyes downward and saw mirror images of his own coal-black eyes staring up at him. His finger stopped tapping. Cassian turned his head away from his daughter and said quietly, "It bears my name."
"He looks like you, doesn't he?" said Eileen hopefully. "He's so much like you, Father, and he's so very clever. Severus, say hello to your grandfather." Eileen pushed Severus forward, but he was too frightened to speak.
Cassian's lip quivered and his shoulders twitched just slightly. Eileen had managed to crack the ice just a little and grew more hopeful. Cassian's silky voice trembled as he spoke, his head still turned away from his daughter; "Fornicating with animals...my own daughter." He turned abruptly and stalked away, leaving Eileen and Severus standing outside the black iron gates.
Eileen grew to hate the very sight of her son. Severus was the reason Cassian turned his back on his daughter and left her unprotected. She'd maintained hope that Cassian would relent until the day she heard that he'd been killed in a duel with seven of the Ministry's best aurors. All seven suffered grievous injuries. The one wizard that was finally able to bring down the great Cassian Prince was the renowned auror Alistor Moody. The only wizard who could free Eileen, who could protect her, was gone forever.
Eileen's world collapsed in on itself and her mind slowly became addled. She treated Severus with a mixture of contempt and hopeful expectation. Severus looked like a slighter, homelier version of Cassian. He had his grandfather's low silky voice. Perhaps someday he would grow to be a powerful wizard who could save Eileen from her dismal predicament. Severus took the blame for Eileen's unhappiness, and he was also the object of all her hopes.
She began filling young Severus' mind with tales of Cassian's greatness and gave him hope that he would someday be like his magnificent grandfather. She also began teaching her son a rigorous magical curriculum to prepare him for Hogwarts, but only when Tobias wasn't home. The day Severus left on the Hogwarts Express, Eileen gave him her most-prized possession and one of the few things that had been bequeathed to her—Cassian's acacia-wood wand.
"Nothing to say for yourself, Eileen?" said Tom. The sound of his high voice brought Eileen back to the present. "Nothing to say in your own defense?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you, Tom."
Riddle slowly reached in his sleeve to draw his wand. "There is nothing more abhorrent to me than the waste of pure magical blood. Pledge your allegiance to me and I will spare your life."
"My dear father refused to bow to you, and so do I," spat Eileen. Cassian had no love of muggles and viewed them as less than human, but he had no desire to slaughter them. There wasn't a witch or wizard before or since who was more cunning than Cassian Prince, and very few who were his magical equal. Although Riddle's magical abilities were greater than Cassian's, the elder wizard had no fear of him; cunning and cleverness could always defeat brawn. It was Riddle's charm and ability to gain large groups of followers that worried Cassian. A lone wizard always had weaknesses to exploit; an army is a much more dangerous foe. Eileen's father saw through Tom Riddle's rhetoric the first time he met the young upstart, and he'd warned Abraxas to be cautious, but Cassian's warnings fell on deaf ears. Abraxas' egotism made him easy prey for the silver-tongued Riddle. Lord Malfoy's backing was crucial to Tom's success.
"I won't be moved by idle threats," said Eileen with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now get out of my house." Eileen instantly regretted her defiance. Riddle aimed his wand at her and she screamed for Severus, who broke free of Lucius and bounded up the stairs. He found his mother slumped over in her bed with saliva running out of her mouth.
"I am sorry," said Voldemort with as much false empathy as he could muster. "I offered to help her, but she refused. I had no choice." Voldemort placed his hand gently on Severus' shoulder. "You understand, don't you?" Severus nodded; he was unable to speak. He couldn't take his eyes off his mother's body. Lord Voldemort holstered his wand and strode out of the room. He waved for Severus to follow him downstairs. "Let the muggle authorities dispose of the waste. Lucius?"
"My Lord," replied Lucius with a grand bow.
"Would you be good enough to help this young man get a proper wand?"
"I'd be delighted, my Lord," came the expected reply.
"Most generous of you, Lucius," said the Dark Lord. He turned to say farewell to Severus, who impulsively dropped to his knees.
"I'm a poor man, my Lord. I have no way to repay you, except to offer you my service." This was exactly what the Dark Lord had hoped to hear.
"Do you pledge to be my servant?"
"I do, my Lord," said Severus emphatically.
"Will you answer my call at any time, for any reason?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Do you pledge to be loyal to me unto death?"
"I do, my Lord," replied Severus, a little too quickly.
"Hold out your left arm and roll up the sleeve." Severus did as instructed and Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand into the skin of Severus' forearm. Severus was proud of himself for not wincing. "Morsmordre," said Voldemort and Severus felt a burning hot pain shoot through his arm to the rest of his body. The pain was so severe that he was unable to utter a sound or draw a breath. Severus' vision blackened. When he awoke, he was lying on the dirty floor alone in the hovel. His left forearm ached, and the pain that radiated from it slowly withdrew from the rest of his body like the uncoiling of a snake. He was simultaneously admiring and frightened of the Dark Mark that was permanently embedded into his skin. He immediately rose and left in search of a public telephone to contact the local police.
Eileen's death was deemed to be by natural causes. Tobias was well known to be a street fighter and had been arrested many times for public fighting and for disturbing the peace. His battered body was believed to be the result of someone finally getting the better of him. He died from asphyxiation due to collapsed lungs. Severus was never suspect in his parents' deaths. Lucius paid for their funerals, citing that it would be suspicious not to give them proper burials. Their services were modest, as was befitting their social status. Severus did not attend. He felt neither joy nor sadness, neither pride nor regret, regarding his parents' death. What he did feel was an almost indescribable lightness, as though a tremendous burden had been lifted from him. Severus surmised that this is what happiness must feel like.
Lucius arrived at the hovel the morning after the funeral and took Severus to Ollivander's for a new wand.
"Why didn't you tell me you didn't have your own wand?"
"I didn't want you to think me a beggar," replied Severus. He placed his hand on Lucius' to stop him from opening the shop door. "We could go elsewhere and get a less expensive wand."
"You shall have the finest wand that Ollivander can provide." Lucius pulled open the shop door and pushed Severus inside.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Garrick Ollivander.
"Good morning, Mr. Ollivander," replied Lucius. "My companion here needs a wand. It will be his first."
Ollivander eyed Severus and adjusted his spectacles. "A first wand at your age? You're quite a late bloomer."
"I was given a hand-me-down, Mr. Ollivander."
"Oh, that is often unwise," replied Ollivander. "May I see the wand?" Severus un-holstered Cassian's wand and handed it to Ollivander, who immediately began to rattle off the wand's components. "Acacia wood, fourteen-and-a-quarter inches, temperamental and very unyielding, dragon heartstring from an Hungarian Horntail—and a particularly vicious specimen too. This is a very powerful and very stubborn wand." Ollivander was silent for a moment. He looked up from the wand and said, "This belonged to Cassian Prince. Are you his son?"
"His grandson, Mr. Ollivander."
"Ah, then your mother would be Eileen Prince?"
"Yes, sir," replied Severus.
"Hers was a reserved wand, not particularly powerful, but highly accurate when in use. It was a near copy of her mother's wand, just a little shorter and neater. They were both walnut with unicorn-hair cores, both a bit delicate and somewhat rigid. Your mother's wand was nine-and-a-quarter inches; your grandmother's was nine-and-three-quarter inches."
Ollivander handed Cassian's wand back and began looking through his stacks of wand boxes, mumbling to himself. He ruled out unicorn-hair cores almost immediately. He tried a great variety of woods and lengths: acacia, walnut, hornbeam, yew, ash, cedar, blackthorn, and hawthorn; none of them accepted Severus. Ollivander settled on various lengths of pine wands with a variety of dragon-heartstring cores and one with a phoenix-feather core. He was stunned that none of them bonded with Severus. Pine seemed like the perfect wood-pairing for this dark shadowy young man. Ollivander took Severus' hands in his and examined them closely. Severus frowned, but Lucius urged him to cooperate. The intrigued wand-maker disappeared into the back of his shop and emerged seconds later with a very dusty box in his hands.
"This was one of the first wands that I made after I completed my apprenticeship. It's been waiting many years for the perfect owner." Ollivander lifted the dusty lid to reveal a very handsome red-oak wand. "Red oak, twelve inches, a bit stubborn, but quite nimble; an exceedingly handsome wand if I do say so myself."
"Indeed it is, Mr. Ollivander," said Lucius, genuinely admiring the wand's beauty. "Go on, Severus, we're bound to find the right one eventually."
As soon as Severus' fingers closed around the hilt, he knew this was the right wand for him. A strong sense of warmth and familiarity coursed through him; feelings he never had when holding Cassian's wand. Severus smiled broadly in spite of himself.
"That's the one," said Ollivander proudly. "The core is dragon heartstring from a very ancient Peruvian Vipertooth; an impressive wand in both appearance and skill."
"And the cost of this exquisite wand?" said Lucius.
"Ten galleons," said Ollivander. Severus thought it a princely sum. He set the wand back in its box.
"Something wrong, Severus?" said Lucius.
"I wonder if I might have it stained black?"
"What? That's a very bizarre request," said Ollivander sharply.
"But why, Severus? It's a very handsome wand."
"It is a handsome wand, Lucius" said Severus. "But it's red oak, an obvious dueling wand. A wand that attractive will draw a great deal of attention, and I prefer not to entice wizards determined to prove their worth. Is it possible, Mr. Ollivander?"
"It is," said Ollivander, his tone dour. "The staining process won't hurt the wand in any way. It'll be ready for you tomorrow afternoon."
"A prudent choice, Severus, but a disheartening one," said Lucius. He paid in advance and Severus retrieved the wand himself the following day.
The fog in Severus' mind cleared and he found himself standing in front of the dusty old mantle where his father had died. His mother had booby-trapped it for a reason, but Severus had never bothered to find out what that reason was. He wanted nothing of hers except her books, most of which had originally belonged to her mother Delilah. Severus tried to unclutter his mind, no easy task once the hovel had swallowed him up. He'd dawdled long enough and was late returning to Hogwarts. He disapparated with a tiny pop.