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Silver Serpent

Chapter 1:

Born in Blood

A/n: Merry Christmas.

Or whatever you celebrate. I hear Festivus is a thing.

Whatever it is.

Anyways, this is my first attempt at delving into the Harry Potter Fandom with a Story.

I mean, I've read it and shit, but this is my first attempt at getting involved.

I wrestled a while with whether I even wanted to post this, but decided I enjoyed writing it too much to not do it.

But I should probably get a few things out of the way in the beginning.

This is going to be, in short, a Fem Potter raised by Sane Voldemort/Tom fic.

Now, when I say sane, I mean functional Sociopath

He's still a sadistic narcissistic power-hungry killer.

But he's not a psychotic, stupid, or mustache-twirling evil villain.

In fact, no one here I actually care about is.

Never really liked the "evil because evil" villains. Always preferred people I can understand or appreciate.

I'd also liek to thank Danorac, or Dan, for helping me with this. He's basically my personal HP expert, so hopefully he kept everything kohsher.

But that's enough of that.

On with the Show.

It was a cold night, that all hallows eve. What started as a peaceful night of ritual and festival, ended in a tragedy that struck a nation. Where once stood a house in Godric's Hollow, now stood only burning ruins. Where once lived a family, now only lays their cold corpses.

It was a night that had been foretold. A night with a destiny. A night that would shape the fates of all those touched by it. It was to be the beginning of the chosen one, and the end of the dark one. The beginning and the end. The oracle had foreseen it. The elder had put his faith in it. And the dark one feared it.

However, there was one problem.

Destiny...was an illusion.

Fate did not truly exist, at least not how they perceived it.

There was no endpoint that had to happen.

No aspect of time that could not be changed.

And nothing was set in stone.

For every time there is a fulfilled prophecy there are ten forgotten and unfulfilled ones.

For every time love conquers, there are twenty when it fails.

For every prayer answered, a hundred fall on deaf ears.

For every man woman and child saved, a thousand more fall.

And so on that night, the loving sacrifice of a mother for her child was strong.

But it wasn't strong enough.

"6th Anniversary of the Girl-Who-Died's Sacrifice.

Ministry Plans to make National Holiday"

Lucius' eyes narrowed as he read the headline for the paper.

A national holiday? For a child? He questioned.

Not even a child He snorted contemptuously.

She was but a babe when our master struck. I doubt she even did anything other than lie down and die like her insolent mother.

Folding the paper, Lucius got up from his table and made his way through Diagon alley.

Still, I suppose whatever they did, it was able to kill the master He acknowledged.

...temporarily he added.

He ignored the hustle and bustle of the streets as child ran around with their parents, waving their newfangled magical toys, family's smiling and celebrating the "glorious" occasion.

If Lucius was a more sullen fellow, like Severus, he might gripe and groan, whine and mope about how these fools didn't understand. If he was more maniacal and more of a sycophant like Bellatrix, he might grin wildly while thinking about how all these insolent fools would soon know the wrath and power of the master.

But Lucius was none of those things.

He was politician, a strategist, and most of all, the Left Hand of the master.

He might not have been the most loyal of all the servants, or the most depraved, but he never cared. While the rest of his compatriots were running around slaughtering families with reckless glee, he was the one actually working out plans for a new world. While they threw their bodies at their enemies with no regard for their own health, he stuck a knife in their back from the shadows.

And while all the rest of his master's servants ran around in terror and confusion, only to stick their head in the ground and hide, or striking out in anger and without direction, only to get caught, he blended into the shadows, and planned.

The Master had said he was immortal. To most, they believed, but did not know how. But to his most trusted, or valued, he told the secret.

Horcruxes.

A dark and forbidden art, but more importantly, it would work.

In theory, at least.

So while many thought that the Master had truly perished, Lucius and Bellatrix knew the truth. Unfortunately Bella was too...enthusiastic...to be able to rein herself in and hide in the shadows. So while she kicked and screamed in Azkaban, Lucius got to planning.

He used his position in the ministry to discreetly find all sorts of books on the darkest of arts, trying to figure out a way to bring the Master back using these Horcruxes.

And at long last, the time has come He thought grimly.

He stepped into the building in Knockturn Alley, one that was hidden from prying eyes. Nodding to the shopkeeper in acknowledgement, before continuing on to the fireplace, he tossed in the handful of floo powder, and spoke the name. The flames roared a great green, and he stepped in without hesitation. In his wake, they died down and left no trace of his presence behind.

Exiting in a castle located deep within the frozen wilderness of Siberia, far from the rest of the wizarding world, a green inferno flared inside of a large fire pit. When it died down, Lucius was left standing in the ashes.

I can see they haven't actually properly lit this place yet. He frowned, whipping his wand out and silently lighting the torches in the room.

Though, they could have just forgotten I was coming He acknowledged as he stepped out of the pit.

Shaking the useless thoughts from his head, Lucius exited the room. Wrapping his coat closer to himself, he whispered out a warming charm to keep out the biting cold of the castle. Despite his efforts, his breath still came out as clouds of mist in the freezing air.

"Bloody idiots, can't properly prepare this place for the master." He grumbled about the lack of any semblance of comfort.

He walked down the empty halls with purpose, his steps clacking loudly in the deathly silence of the castle, only the whistling of the wind to keep him company. By all accounts, it seemed empty and abandoned. He supposed it did make sense, from a pragmatic standpoint, to make it seem that no one was here. If any of them were somehow followed, it would just take them to an empty castle with no evidence of anything. If anything, they might think that they were just interested in the scenery, or were making secretive liaisons with mistresses.

Still, Lucius was a man who enjoyed the comforts of the finer things in life. He wasn't above sacrifice for practicality, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Passing by a window, he noted that the ceremony should be starting soon. The sun was setting quickly, and soon the moonless night would rise.

He stopped before a large wooden door with a silver sigil carved into it. The symbol held a skull with prominent canines and wavy lines radiating out from it, a sword with a prominent crossguard penetrating it through the mouth and exiting out the back, with a snake winding its way down the sword through the mouth of the skull.

The Sigil was already here when they found this place, and all things considered they had decided to make it a sort of unofficial new symbol of death eaters. It wasn't a huge change from the original one, but it had captured their hearts and minds. There was...an otherworldliness to it. As if the symbol itself signified something beyond the mundane, or even beyond the arcane as they knew it.

Something...primordial...almost.

Turning from the door, he looked at the large stone bricks around the door. His eyes roamed for the right one, before spotting it.

A small symbol, similar to the first, had been carved into it. Many of the bricks did, but this one was special. This time it was just an eye with radiating wavy lines. Pressing his hand to the brick, it resisted at first, but eventually surrendered and depressed into the wall slightly. Once it had, Lucius pushed the door open without any further delay.

They had discovered this a while ago. Many of the doors had...codes...that could be used to open them into different areas. If you used the right code, the door would open to the room you wanted to go. Otherwise, the door would simply obey the typical space-time orientation of the castle, and give you entry into another abandoned section.

There was almost no ambient magic radiating from them either. One had to truly extend their senses, or be in the right places, to feel it, meaning that to an uninformed wizard, this place was just an abandoned muggle castle. But once you did feel the magic in the walls, you would realize just how old this place was. Possibly even older than Hogwarts.

But certainly, far more...discrete.

It also seemed to be more functional. Hogwarts may have been styled like a castle, but it lacked the actual architectural defenses of one. This place, however, was a magical fortress made to defend. Against what, they had no idea. There were no records in this place. There were scars, lingering traces of magic, but nothing written in stone telling them what exactly this place was for.

At least nothing yet. They hadn't gone over aspect of the castle yet. It's size was enormous, and was just as a spatially confusing place as Hogwarts. Considering their small numbers, it would be some time before they would be able to discover every secret within its walls.

But that's fine He thought with a ghost of a smirk as he stepped through the door and into the room he had sought. We found what we were looking for.

A chamber made for summoning, channeling, and controlling the blackest of arts.

The room was massive, practically a cathedral, with a hole in the roof to allow in the light of the starry night. Unlike the others he had tread through, however, it was not without life. Countless candles were lit around the room, with a large fire pit burning bright with a ghostly blue fire in before a massive pit that took up the center of the room. Numerous groves wound their way from the mouths of several statues of robed men along the walls to the pit in the center.

Throughout the room, several people in black cloaks and robes toiled away at their most important task. While many wore their hoods to hide their face, almost in shame, a few did not. Lucius could see the Notts, Yaxley, and most importantly, Severus.

It was no secret, to Lucius anyways, that Severus had held significant feelings toward the mudblood known as Lily Evans. While Lucius held no love for Mudbloods in general, he couldn't deny that the woman had power and potential. It was almost enough for his pragmatic side to take over and ignore her blood status.

Almost

Still, it was enough to make him at least appreciate that Severus could find quality in the witch, if not her blood.

After the master killed her...Severus wasn't the same for a number of years. He was withdrawn and depressed. It was no great wonder why to Lucius. The others might have thought it was because their master had perished, but that barely factored into Severus's mind.

I suppose the worst part was that not even her half-blood daughter survived He considered.

Severus may have thought himself a good spy, but he wasn't as clever as he thought he was. He was good, quite good compared to most wizards, but he didn't have the same head for deception that Lucius did. There was a reason he was the spymaster for their group.

So he knew of the prophecy, and he knew that Severus had been told by Dumbledore that they would be safe. That the child of prophecy, at least, would live. When she didn't, it crushed him.

But Lucius knew if he played his cards right, he could use this to bring the potion master back into the fold. Truth be told, the only reason he did it was because Severus was a potions master the likes of which hadn't been seen in far too long. There was a certain spark in him, a special something that no one else had. Something in him that no amount of training, of dedication, and time could account for. He could see patterns in the potions, aspects in the basic components of magic in the ingredients he picked that none else could discern. Already, he had invented a handful of new potions, and even a spell or two.

It made Severus invaluable, despite his loyalties. And if they could find a way to inspire him? To put actual passion into his work?

Well, that was the job of a politician, after all.

"Severus." Lucius said neutrally, standing a respectable distance from the potion master at work.

"Lucius." The man drawled out in response. "It's been sometime since you were here.

"Tonight is the pinnacle of all our plans for the past 3 years. I would not miss this for anything." He responded.

"How goes the formula?" Lucius asked, rhetorically more than anything. He knew Severus wouldn't fail them.

Standing up straight from the table holding the instruments of his trade, Severus turned to face the man.

"I actually believe I've improved it." He answered, the pride trickling into his voice.

"Improved it?" Lucius questioned. "This is too important to play with like one of your experiments, Severus. This needs to work. There can be no room for error."

"Indeed. Perhaps I should explain?" Severus defended.

Lucius paused, before nodding in assent.

"The original formula that you had found would simply resurrect our Master as a human. The modified one the master made for himself would make him something more. Correct?" Severus began.

Again, Lucius nodded, wondering where the man was going with this.

"I actually managed to find some notes from several sources, including a few in Germany, Haiti, Africa, and Eastern Asia that helped put together some of the master's other notes. It still wasn't complete, however, it was missing a critical piece." He continued, the smallest of smiles crawling up his pale face.

"Then, I found it. Here, in this castle. In this room, in fact. The missing piece."

"Severus, I know how much this subject means to you, but please, do not test my patience." Lucius warned, growing tired of this.

"Put simply, it is the formula for the perfect being. A perfect, fully formed, Homunculus." He finished.

"A homunculus?" Lucius questioned. He didn't know too much on the subject, only that most were flawed, weak, or abominations.

"A perfect homunculus. It required much of the original plan the master had for his body, but with several critical tweaks. It is as close to immortality as I could find." He explained.

"Really?" Lucius consider, now very intrigued by these possibilities.

"However." Severus interrupted Lucius's thought process.

"I do not recommend this as a standard practice. The conditions needed for this are both bizarre and specific. Survival is not guaranteed, and the price is steep." Severus explained grimly.

"Still, the Master has passed the most arduous of tasks. The rest is up to us, and his own strength. Something the Master has no shortage of." He finished.

"True enough." Lucius conceded.

"But keep in mind, if this fails, it's on your head. Your usefulness only extends so far." Lucius warned with sharp eyes.

"Understood." Severus nodded, suppressing his fear.

"Good." Lucius nodded, "How soon can we begin?"

"Momentarily." Severus answered.

Lucius gave a curt nod again, before walking off to see Yaxley.

"Yaxley." He began.

"Lucius." He responded with a grimace.

He never really liked Yaxley. Thought he was a bit too fanatical in his hatred, not enough practicality to adapt and overcome. Still, he wasn't incompetent, just a bit of a loose cannon.

"I trust you gathered everything as instructed?" Lucius questioned.

"Of course." He said with a predatory grin. "All pure, and all untainted."

"Good." Lucius nodded.

Honestly, Bellatrix would have been a better fit for the job. Unfortunately, she is currently in Azkaban thanks to her fanatical devotion to the master. Lucius internally groaned.

Turning away, Lucius continued his rounds, making sure every step in the process was just so. He made sure every rune was inscribed just right. That every ingredient was in the right place and of the right quality. He made sure the critical component was just as Yaxley said.

Finally, when he was done, he made his way back to the center of the chamber. He watched as everyone applied their finishing touches, absorbed in their work. As he looked up and saw the stars high in the night sky, he muttered a quick tempus spell to be sure of the time.

Nodding grimly in anticipation and satisfaction, he dismissed the spell, before clacking his cane against the hard stone ground loudly three times. The sound rang out through the cavernous room, drawing the attention of all to him.

"My comrades…"He began dramatically, a spell amplifying his voice for all to hear without him having to strain it.

"I believe we are ready to begin." He finished,

And with those words, everyone jumped into action and finished what they were doing. They got dressed up, enshrouding themselves in dark robes and donning their masks as death eaters. Severus returned, having introduced the formula he had made to the repositories as late as possible to ensure it's freshness. The candles were blown out with several silent spells, leaving nothing but the eerie blue flame in the center lighting the room.

They stood in a silent semi-circle, surrounding the pit and the fire, with Lucius in the center. He stepped forward, towards the fire, before stopping at the first in the sets of runic arrays. He raised his cane before pressing it into a tile on the ground. Just like the brick, it resisted for a moment, before giving in and depressing into the ground with a click.

The click led into a series of gears moving with a heavy and rumbling sound. The feel of magic throughout the castle being activated and swirling around in anticipation and preparation. They heard the sound of something opening with a large Clunk, when it happened.

Red poured from the mouths of the six statues.

It started as a trickle, before growing into a steady stream. It wound it's way through all the troughs, before finally ending as it filled the pit with blood.

The blood of 343 various animals, magical creatures, and pureblood wizards and witches. All virgins, and all in the proper and specific amounts.

As the red blood of the sacrifices poured into the large pit. A black, inky, substance trickled in, mixing in with the red blood, before being followed by a luminescent green one. When it finally mixed inside the pool, Lucius knew it was time.

He slammed his cane against the ground loudly, whilst channeling his magic through it, and into the runic array beneath him. Following his lead, the rest of the 13 death eaters present kneeled and put their hands on the array and channeled their magic into it as well. Under their power, the arrays all lit up in a blue matching the ghostly fire before them. Once the arrays lit up, so too did the blood glow an ominus red laced with black with green steam rising from it's surface. Once the blood itself lit up, it revealed that the troughs had also been arranged in another array within the one they had carved themselves.

By this point the magic in the air was practically tangible. A mystic wind started from the pressure of it all, causing their cloaks to billow. The glowing arrays began to ring loudly as the fire began to flare. Suddenly, arcs of electricity shot out from the fire, hitting the walls and floor around them. And yet, they did not flinch. Their mission too important, their dedication too resolute.

Then, just as it had started, the crackling lightning died down. The glowing faded, and the ringing stopped.

The Death Eaters stopped, looking at each other worriedly, wondering if it had worked.

Was this supposed to happen?

Had they done something wrong?

Had they lost their master forever?

Just as these doubts began to surface into murmurs, they were stopped by the sound of bubbles popping. They looked to the source and found the pool of blood was bubbling.

Suddenly a hand shot out of the pool, hitting the stone tile floor with a wet smack.

It was joined soon by another, both working together to pull a body out of the pool. A head broke the surface, gasping for air, before the rest of his body followed suit. Soon enough, a man stood before them, naked as the day he was born and covered from head to toe in a thick coat of blood.

His eyes were closed as his head was tilted to the sky, one quickly becoming overcast, and he simply breathed for a minute. He looked down, and they all but gasped in shock as they opened his eyes.

The man was fairly tall, probably over two meters, with chin length hair and a muscular and well toned body. His face was handsome and in line with someone in their early-mid thirties or late twenties. But that wasn't what was so shocking.

It was his oh so familiar blood red eyes that shook them to the core.

"M-my lord?" One death eater stuttered out.

The man glanced at the cultist in question, looking him over for a minute, as if measure his worth, before finally giving a smirk they knew all too well.

"Rise. Your lord has returned."

And with those words, a pressure was lifted. They all stood before their lord, rejoicing in the fact it had worked.

"My lord, it is good to see you well again." One said

"With you, now we can make those mudbloods tremble in fear!" Another declared.

"Oh Merlin, truly today is a blessed day!" more rejoiced.

"My lord." Lucius began, internally pleased that the plan had gone off without a hitch, but realizing this was but a step on the path to ultimate victory.

Stepping forward with a cloak and towel he had thought to bring with him, he presented them to the master.

"Thank you, Lucius." Voldemort said, a smirk still on his face.

"I trust the plan went off without a hitch?" He asked as he wiped the blood from his face and wrapped the cloak around him.

"Severus found some...modifications...to make to the formula you gave us." Lucius answered.

"I can see that." He mused as he pulled on some of the strands of his newfound hair. "To be honest, I had missed having hair."

"Still, are you sure this body is fit for one such as me?" He inquired.

"Well, given the fact you appear to be back in the prime of your life, I'd say the results speak for themselves." Severus commented.

Lucius shot him a sharp glare, but Voldemort simply laughed.

"Quite right, Severus, quite right." He chuckled good naturedly.

"My...lord?" Lucius questioned, looking at his master strangely. Voldemort was rarely so...jovial.

"Lucius, my Left Hand, I have just conquered death itself!" He declared. "Truly a feat worthy of celebration!"

Something that caused a round of cheers among the small group in honor of their master.

"Perhaps...but I am still concerned about our comrades scattered and imprisoned." Lucius cautioned

"Truly? Who?" Voldemort asked, his interest now piqued by current events.

"Bellatrix, most importantly." Lucius said, getting to the heart of the matter.

"I see…" Voldemort frowned, growing serious at the news that his Right Hand had been imprisoned.

"I suppose I should not be surprised. She never was one for tact." He sighed, wiping the rest of the blood from his face, revealing the pale grey ashen skin underneath.

As they spoke, they began to hear the rumblings of thunder in the distance.

"How long have I been dead?" Voldemort asked, finally.

"Six years to the day. Possibly to the minute." Lucius answered

"Six years?" The master mused, wiping the rest of the blood from his hands and arms.

"What has happened while I was gone?" He asked.

"For the most part, nothing special. Cornelius fudge is the Minister, a useless fool who practically eats out of my hand." Lucius sneered.

"Is he sympathetic to our cause?" Voldemort asked

"He's a weak coward who will either bow or panic in reaction to anything he perceives to be a threat." Lucius explained.

Voldemort hummed in thought, considering how he could use this to his advantage.

"Severus? What has happened with Dumbledore?" Voldemort inquired.

"The old man hired me as a potions teacher for the school, either out of genuine pity or to keep a close eye on me. Most likely the later. Still, he has become somewhat distraught over the death of the girl in the prophecy." Severus answered.

"Has he now?" Voldemort said with a raised brow, his black hair still glistening with red blood.

"Speaking of which, my Lord, what...happened...that night?" One of the others asked.

Lucius was unable to suppress a sigh at the man's lack of tact and impatience. Fortunately it was drowned out by the ever rising sounds of rolling thunder.

"A good question." Voldemort agreed, nonetheless, no doubt still in a good mood from his resurrection and triumph over death.

"When I struck the girl with the killing curse, her mother must have performed a kind of blood sacrifice ritual, using her own soul. While it wasn't enough to protect the girl, it was still enough to rebound the spell and destroy my body." He explained with a pensive look, as if he himself was still analyzing what exactly happened.

"What happened to the girl?" Another asked.

Their master turned to look at the woman who asked, and opened his mouth to answer.

BOOM!

Whatever he was to say was drowned out by the deafening blast of thunder as a bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky and collided with the pool of blood. The massive explosion of light and sound stunned them, sending them reeling from sensory overload.

As Lucius looked up, he saw the Master standing before the pool, looking past the cloud of steam rising from it. As he stared intently through the fog, Lucius used his cane to help himself to his feet.

"M-my lord?" Lucius inquired, wondering what was wrong.

He was stopped when Voldemort curtly raised his hand up, signalling for silence.

So he stopped and watched, waiting for whatever his lord knew would happen to happen.

And then it did.

First, he heard the faint sound of bubbles rising up from the depths of the pool over the loud sounds of people regaining their senses. Then, he saw a hand, small and lithe, pop out from the pool and find purchase on the stone tile floor. Before it could do anything more, Voldemort bent down and grabbed hold of the hand in a tight grip, and effortlessly pulled the being from the pool and threw them to the center of the floor in front of him. From there, the identity of the being was clear as day.

It was a girl.

A young girl, no older then 7, no younger than 4. While mostly androgynous at this age, the lack of male genitalia was a rather obvious giveaway for her. Like their master, she was covered from head to toe in a thick coat of blood. Unlike, the master, however, there was no confidence or pride in her form.

Instead, she cowered on the ground, her face twisted in confusion and fear. She was lost, scared, and had no idea why she was here, or even where "here" was. It was plain to see in her eyes.

Her emerald green eyes. Behind him he could hear Severus gasp in shock about something. Lucius ignored it as he focused on those eyes of her. The green was so bright as to almost be considered luminescent. At first glance, the rest of her eyes seemed normal, but upon further analysis, Lucius could see her scalera was some kind of off white with a metalic sheen.

Before he could think further on the matter, the girl was surrounded by the rest of the Death Eaters.

"My lord!" one shouted, "Who is this girl? What shall we do with her?"

His master, however, refrained from responding for a moment. Instead, he looked at the girl. Studying her with his own pair of bright blood red eyes. Lucius could see the gears turning in his master's head as he thought about who this girl is and what she means.

"I believe…" He began, stepping closer to the girl as he leaned closer to her face. "That this is Lilith Potter."

"The girl who "killed" me."

At once, the Death Eaters surrounding her drew their wands, aiming them at the small girl with obvious intent to kill.

But they were stopped by their master's hand.

"Are you, in fact, Lilith Potter?" He asked the girl, ignoring his underlings.

"I-I-I d-don't k-know." She stuttered in paralyzing fear.

"Perhaps the curse purged your memories?" He muttered quietly to himself.

"My Lord?" Nott raised his voice.

The Master silently looked up at the man, daring him to continue.

"What do you plan to do with the Half-blood?" He asked.

"Perhaps leave her burning disemboweled corpse in front of the Ministry to signify his return?" Yaxley suggested.

There were snickers and murmurs of agreement within the circle, whilst the girl seemed to curl further in on herself, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks.

And this is the problem with dealing with fanatics Lucius all but sighed, All caught up in the fervor of their "cause", and not bothering to think about the consequences.

"No." Voldemort's voice rang out, creating a telling silence in it's wake.

"No, I think I have much use for this girl." He murmured. "I see now that I was a fool before. Everything feels so much clearer now."

"I have decided." He began, standing up within the the crowd. "This girl…"

"She shall be my heir." Voldemort declared.

There was a tremulous pause that hung in the air after his words.

Then finally, a voice broke the silence.

"A-are you mad?!" Yaxley finally cried.

"Oh?" Voldemort responded in feigned interest.

"She's a filthy half blood! The child of those who opposed you, the one who killed you!" He roared.

"Is that all?" He asked with false invitation.

"L-look at her. She's a weak child, trembling on the ground in fear." Sir Crabbe said, confidence growing.

Are the sycophants growing a spine? Lucius thought, slightly surprised at their defiance.

Or have they already forgotten how to properly fear him?

As Sir Goyle said, "A-and she's such a small and ugly thing!", he realized it was most likely the latter.

Lucius himself was somewhat dubious of the Master's declaration, but he knew him well enough to know there was some kind of logic behind this. Something that would fit into his grand plan. Either that, or it was some kind of sadistic whim. Either way, questioning him on something he was so sure about was a sure way to invite pain and fear onto yourself.

"So you would question the will of your master?" Voldemort questioned with an innocuous look.

"How do we even know if you're really out master?" Sir Goyle accused.

"Yeah, maybe Severus mucked up the ritual and brought back something else instead!" Yaxley agreed.

"Are you mad, Yaxley? This our Lord!" Sir Nott said.

"Now now, Mr. Nott, no need for that." Voldemort admonished, stepping up to the brute of a man.

"So, Yaxley, you doubt me?" He said as he seemed to tower over the man.

"I-I just think maybe we need to rethink-" He began to try to defend himself, fear sinking into his bones at Voldemort's proximity.

"So you want proof of who I am, is that it?" The Master continued innocently.

"No, I just-"

"Give me your arm." Voldemort said calmly.

"...W-what?"

"Give me your arm." Voldemort repeated slowly.

"B-but you don't have your wand." Yaxley weakly argued.

At this Voldemort gave the man a serene smile. "Do not think, obey."

"Y-yes my lord." Yaxley conceded, extending the arm with the dark mark on it towards the master.

Lucius looked on with interest, curious as to whether he'd be entertained or disturbed.

Voldemort took the brute's hand in one of his own arms, gripping the forearm lightly while running his right hand gently over the dark mark.

"You doubted my abilities without a wand, yes? Doubted that I was your lord and master? If even for only a moment." Voldemort began, gazing at the man's hand intently.

"No, I just-"

"Ah! Don't lie to me, Yaxley." Voldemort interrupted.

"I-I...yes, my lord." He conceded. "I doubted you."

The master nodded silently in acknowledgement, seemingly pleased at his confession.

"Well, allow me to...dispel such doubts." Voldemort said.

He rested his hand a few inches above Yaxley's and then gestured downwards. There seemed to be a pulse of magic. Then?

Crack

"Ahhh!" Yaxley roared in pain as his index finger was bent backwards. Bending below his hand from the force of a silent wandless banishing spell.

But Lord Voldemort gave no external reaction. Instead, he only moved his hand slightly and did it again, and again, and again.

With each pulse, a new finger was bent beyond it's limits with a painful crack and a new roar of agony. Soon Yaxley was on his knees, clutching the arm in his master's grasp with his free one. With each finger broken, Lucius could see the crowd of "hardened" death eaters flinch at the sight of direct physical damage. It was rare, in the wizarding world, for one to suffer physical damage. Most spells would either cleanly end or stun you, rarely mangling the body in the manner that Voldemort was doing right now. Even the Cruciatus curse, while tormenting, rarely gave any external injuries.

And all the while, Lucius could see the smile on Voldemort remain serene and passive.

"I can see that my absence has temporarily blinded you, Yaxley," Voldemort said as he finally released Yaxley's hand, having run out of fingers and bones in the hand to break.

Yaxley cradled the mangled appendage in his chest, trying to do whatever he could to lessen the pain.

"Perhaps…" The master began, extending a hand out to grasp the side of Yaxley's masked head to make him look him in the eye.

"...Making the blindness more permanent will allow you to truly see?" He said as a suggestion as he held a hand in front of Yaxley's mask.

"M-my lord, please," Yaxley begged

"Now now, I'm doing this for your own good." Voldemort smiled.

And with that, he pushed his hand forwards, before clenching, curling, and twisting it. As he did, Yaxley began to scream in agony. Soon blood began to pour out from the edges of his mask. All the while Voldemort's grin seemed to take on that mad edge it did whenever he found himself immersed in expressing his absolute power over another.

Finally, he released the man, who soon curled up upon himself and whimpered in pain.

"So, does anyone else have any objections?" He asked, "Crabbe, Goyle?"

"N-no, my Lord. Your wish is our command." They answered.

"Good, good." He smiled, folding his hands behind his back.

"Now then," He began, turning back to the stunned and frightened girl on the ground, "Take Yaxley and leave us."

"Y-yes my lord." They stammered as they picked up the broken man and leaving the room.

He made to leave as well when he was halted by his voice.

"Lucius, Severus, you are to remain." He commanded.

Lucius paused, momentarily surprised that he would include Severus, but acknowledging it as fact and moving on.

Turning back to our master, I was surprised to see him holding the child in his arms with something that almost resembled genuine caring.

"I believe we have much to discuss, but let's see if we can't take this conversation somewhere more...comfortable, shall we?"

A/n:

I said I was new to HP FF writing, right? Well, I'm also not the most knowledgeable person on it. Which is why I got Dan's help on this.

So, I mean, if I fucked up with someone's personality or something somewhere, whoops.

Tell me and I'll fix it.

Or I'll say "Fuck it" and not, because I don't feel like being 100% accurate to the smallest detail.

I mean, hell, it's already nearly AU anyway. And it's Fanfiction anyway.

But as you can see, Voldy is still a good old twisted fuck.

I also decided to try and keep with my own tone, and make things more visceral and gruesome.

In HP in general, the "bad" people tend to just sling around Crucio and AK's around like it's going out of style.

But that's kind of boring.

I mean, Crucio?

Flick your wand at someone and make them fall to the ground writhing in pain from some red spell?

Meh.

That's not very relatable. You look at that and think, "I'd imagine he's in some terrible pain."

But, if you show someone slowly break every bone in a man's hand before crushing their eyeballs with some fancy TK magic, well I find that that's a lot more relatable. You can more easily understand and empathize with that kind of pain, which is what I'm going for.

So Voldy, or Tom, is going to be more hands on. I'll say his time as an orphan was less sheltered and more "Grew up on the streets", which is what helps set him apart from other wizards.

I also must confess that I got a lot of inspiration from both FMA and Penny Dreadful. Not enough to be a crossover, just themes and idea.

This is also a test, if you will, to see how this fic does. If it does well, I'll continue, if not, I'll drop it. I'm going to go through a 4 chapter trial period for it. The rest should be coming before the end of January.

So, I'll see you all later with the next chapter.