Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter.

Writers notes; Thanks to HGranger89 my beta reader, and thanks to everyone for all the positive feedback.

Miles away from Malfoy Manor, Hermione Granger was perched in her parents sitting room in London while he little cousin watched an educational show with puppets on the television. No matter how hard the young witch tried to distract herself from the tragic death of Headmaster Dumbledore, her mind kept wandering to it, struggling to process it. She couldn't imagine Hogwarts without him and his twinkling blue eyes.

Hermione was grateful that she was once again sent to her live Aunt and Uncle and cousin Hugo over the holidays. They allowed her to immerse herself in her studies without complaint. She could only imagine how much more distraught she would be if forced to grieve while enduring her father's taunts. Everything seemed to be weighed down by her complicated grief. When her Hogwarts letter finally arrived with her book list, she was not excited as in years past, and she shrugged with indifference at the permission slip to remain at school over Christmas for something called a Yule Ball for fourth years and above.

She also received a letter from Ginny inviting her to join the Weasley family at the Quidditch World Cup. Mr. Weasley had been given several tickets as a reward for his hard work at the Ministry. While Hermione didn't care for the sport, she would love to visit Ginny. Pulling a quill out of the bun on top of her head, Hermione wrote on the back of Ginny's letter saying she would love to go.

On the day of the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione was awake, packed and ready to spend the rest of her holidays with the Weasleys before the sun rose. It was a very early Sunday morning when Hermione and her family were eating breakfast, Hugo always walking up with the sun himself, when the doorbell rang. Hermione jumped up to answer and was tackled by a flock of ginger-haired hooligans as the twins grasped her in a tight bear hug.

Releasing her, the twins walked into the hall, and Hermione stepped back to introduce Mr. Weasley to her Aunt and Uncle.

"Hello, I'm Arthur Weasleys; my children go to school along with your niece." Arthur offered his outstretched hand to Uncle Phil as his eyes wandered around the home, excitedly taking in the muggle technology around the sitting room.

"Yes, Hermione told me that you were planning a trip to see a football game," Uncle Phil said. He was surprised, to say the least when Hermione had asked to go to a sporting event with her friends, but he was happy to see her come out of her shell more each holiday as she made more friends at her boarding school.

The twins ran upstairs to help Hermione with her school trunk while Mr. Weasley made awkward small talk with Uncle Phil and Aunt Rose until Hermione emerged with Crookshanks squirming in her arms and Fred and George carrying her trunk between them.

"Have fun on your trip love," Aunt Rose said hugging her goodbye, "If you choose to stay at school over Christmas for your Ball, we'll see you next summer." Her aunt squeezed a little too hard, causing Crooks to hiss in her arms. Aunt Rose sheepishly let go and tucked Hermione's curls behind her ears and gave her a lovely smile that made Hermione feel loved and filled her with warmth.

Following Mr. Weasley down the street, the foursome walked a few blocks to the nearest park where he pulled out an old muggle water bottle. Looking at his worn watch, he hummed and said "Now children, we have two minutes until the portkey, so grab a good spot. Fred, you hold onto Hermione's trunk. Hermione, you make sure you have a good grasp of that kneazle. We wouldn't want to leave him stranded."

Nodding thoughtfully, Hermione tightened her grip on Crookshanks, even if it made him swipe at her lightly. Suddenly, the bottle began to glow, and Hermione gripped one small hand around it. She felt a tug at her navel, and suddenly the neighbourhood park around her disappeared.

Just as quickly, Hermione was crashing through the air and landed in a heap on the ground outside the Burrow. Fred and George were similarly thrown about the lawn, but thankfully her trunk was still intact. Looking up she saw Mr. Weasley gliding through the air, almost as if he were running before he landed gently on his feet.

He sheepishly looked at Hermione and his sons realizing it was their first time travelling by portkey. He helped Hermione up and grabbed her trunk, ushering her into the Burrow where Molly took her in her arms in a bone-crushing hug before showing her up to Ginny's room where she would be staying for the duration of her visit.

They waited until the match was over and when everyone was distracted, drinking celebrating the Irish win, before attacking the campsite. Tents were set aflame, and thousands of witches and wizards were evacuating their tents, stampeding through the site, causing more chaos and confusion as they tried to escape.

The Carrow twins and Azazer led the attack, killing and torturing anyone who passed them. One family tried to fight them off, but they were quickly outmatched; Amycus gutted a young wizard with his dagger, and Azazer killed the foolish witch who dared to fight him.

Inside the campsite, a group of house elves banded together to defend a child who was separated from her parents. The Carrow twins grinned maliciously and made quick work slaughtering the elves before casting a quick Avada at the little girl.

"Terrified young faces with fear on their faces,

All of their voices silenced like mouse's,

Watching the cowards bow toward their new lord

These are a few of my favourite things."

Azazer's psychopathic lilt carried through the area as witches and wizards tried to run away from him. He heard a small cry towards the left of him and spotted a young boy shielding his little sister from him. Azazer smiled "Ah, ma belle pêche... there's no need to tremble like that. Else you'll make me feel like a pécheur myself..."

He aimed his wand at the children, Avada Kedavra on the tip of his tongue when something hit him in the back, knocking him dHe stumbled and turned on his heel to face who dared strike him from behind like a coward and spotted Arthur Weasley, the biggest muggle loving blood traitor in the UK. Weasley didn't say a word and began launching hexes and jinxes at the man. Azazer was quick to deflect them, sending one flying towards the children behind him, seriously harming them and the surrounding tents.

The two men were throwing spells at each other, and suddenly, Arthur hit his target; Azazer was hit directly in the chest, throwing him on his back. Arthur approached and kicked the man's wand out of his hand, casting an incarcerous to bind him. However, before the ropes could bind Azazer, the Death Eater rolled away, summoned his whip and wrapped it around Weasley's neck. Arthur screamed in pain and began to struggle as the whip squeezed around his larynx, cutting off his air supply.

Azazer laughed manically as Arthur gasped for air, trying desperately to loosen the whip around his throat. Azazer loved watching his victims desperately fight on as all hope slips away, looking at them in the eyes as they pathetically tried to stay alive. Arthur struggled to breathe, and his arms slowly left his neck, laying limp at his side. His eyes closed as he lost the fight and finally he lay motionless on the ground.

"Filthy blood traitor," Azazer called down, releasing the whip, letting Arthur's body fall to the ground. The Death Eater stepped back spitting on the red-haired man's corpse.

"NO!" an agonizing scream broke out through the crowd.

Azazer turned to see the source of noise and found the blood traitor's son; his face full of tears, his body shaking with unrepressed anger. The young man pointed his wand at his father's killer as Azazer sent the boy flying to the ground flat on his back. He walked up to the boy, stepping on his hand, as the boy struggled to reach his wand. Smirking, Azazer pointed his wand at the boy.

Fred Weasley closed his eyes, waiting for death to come, but in the end, nothing happened. Opening his eyes, Fred found aurors Kingsley Shackelbolt and Nymphadora Tonks running towards him and Azazer disapparated immediately. Fred dove into Tonks' arms and the young witch tried to comfort his friends e younger brother, as the boy sobbed into her chest. Kingsley checked over Arthur's body and was overcome with an intense guilt that he had not been fast enough to save his friend.

The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it the Riddle House, even though it had been years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof and ivy spreading unchecked over its walls. Once an elegant looking Manor, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict and unoccupied.

The villagers all agreed that the old house was creepy. Fifty years ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of Little Hangleton still liked to discuss when the topic was bought up. The story had been picked up and changed so many times, that nobody was quite sure what to believe anymore. No matter the wild rumours, the tale always started the same way: fifty years ago on a beautiful summer morning, a maid entered the drawing room and found all three Riddle's, mother, father and adult son, dead.

Very few knew the real events, and Severus Snape was one of them. In the summer of 1943, a young orphan named Tom Riddle walked into the village of Little Hangleton after tracing his Mother's family to the village. When his Uncle Morfin Gaunt revealed that Tom's father was a muggle that had abandoned his witch mother, Tom, in anger, forced his Uncle to disclose the location of his birth father. He then stunned his uncle, taking his wand and family ring with him.

Tom Riddle then apparated to the Riddle House and found his father, grandfather, and grandmother in the drawing room. The youngest Riddle used his uncle's wand to cast the Killing Curse on his father and grandparents. Riddle then returned to the Gaunt shack and altered Morfin's memory, causing Gaunt to believe himself to be the murderer.

After the attack, the Riddles' maid ran across the town, screaming about the corpses of the Riddle family. The Muggle police were confused about the deaths of the Riddles since there were no visible signs of damage on any of the bodies. The deaths of the Riddle family greatly shocked the other citizens of Little Hangleton, even though most of the villagers resented the family for their arrogance and wealth.

The Riddles were later buried in the town cemetery. Since it was unknown that Tom Riddle Sr. had sired a son, the Riddle House was purchased by a succession of owners, none of whom ever physically occupied the House. Also, the police at the nearby town suspected Frank Bryce, the Riddle family's gardener, of being the murderer. Bryce remembered seeing "a dark-haired and pale" teenage boy climbing the hill on the night of the murders, which the police did not believe at first. Even though the police dropped the charges due to lack of evidence, the cloud of suspicion hovered over Bryce to this day, if he was even still alive.

The Ministry of Magic, however, instantly deduced that a wizard must have murdered the Riddles. The Ministry's first suspect was Morfin Gaunt, who had cursed the younger Riddle nearly eighteen years before. Arriving at the Gaunt shack, five miles north of Riddle Manor, Morfin, still under the effects of his nephew's false memory charm, confessed himself to be the murderer and willingly allowed himself to be arrested. All that had bothered him was the fact that he lost his father's ring, which was said to be his last words. Morfin then spent the rest of his life locked up in Azkaban. Meanwhile, Tom Riddle Jr. began to wear the Gaunt ring as a trophy around Hogwarts.

It was one of many things Severus had in common with the Dark Lord: they both poor half-bloods who had murdered their muggle fathers.

Severus found himself inside the decrepit Riddle Manor along with Peter Pettigrew, Bartemius Crouch Jr, an ashen young man with straw-coloured hair, and a small barely even human looking Dark Lord. "Master, maybe we can do it without the boy?" Pettigrew asked.

"NO!" Lord Voldemort hissed. "We need the boy! The boy is everything! It can't be done without him!"

"What about him?" Barty Jr asked with disgust pointing at Severus. It was just then Severus realized he was chained up to a wall in the corner of the room, under watch by Lucius holding his wand to Severus' temple. Everyone turned to look at Severus' with disgust.

"Severus?" Voldemort asked like he realizes Severus was even here, "I almost forgot you were even here."

"Filthy, Mudblood lover! Blood traitor!" snarled Pettigrew.

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, and Pettigrew backed away terrified. Voldemort turned to Barty Jr and smiled. "Severus, watch what happens to those who defy me."

Barty walked up and looking like a crazy mad man pointed his wand at Severus and shouted, "Crucio!" The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was... It was like white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain; he was struggling through the pain, trying not to scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. The pain lasted for a few moments and Voldemort ordered Barty Jr to stop.

During the torture, Voldemort's snake Nagini slithered her way inside the room and over to the Dark Lord, "Nagini, are you hungry my pet?" The snake slithered its way over and attacked Severus, biting and ripping his throat, as everyone in the room watched.

About two hundred miles away, Severus Snape woke in a cold sweat.

Severus lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had just run a marathon as the vivid nightmare still flashed through his mind, he pressed his hands over his face, trying to calm himself down. He was always plagued with nightmares; rarely did he ever have a pleasant dream; Neville Longbottom making a perfect potion was more likely to happen than Severus having a good night sleep. He laid in his bed inside Hogwarts castle staring at the ceiling willing himself to fall back asleep.

Eventually, he gave up, knowing he would not be able to fall back asleep on his first night back in the castle since Albus' death. Severus made his way to the bathroom splashing cold water onto his face, then he gripped the ends of the sink tightly and stared into the mirror. He took slow, deep breaths then rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, which bore the worst decision of his life. Ever since Pettigrew had escaped his Dark Mark, which had been barely visible for thirteen years, was darkening every so slightly. He started at the mark as a feeling of self-loathing washed over him, remembering the moment of weakness at the lowest point of his life.

Despite his exhaustion, Severus headed to the lab to finish the last back of potions for those injured at the Quidditch World Cup. His head ached from occluding for so long, and his arm had a dull throbbing from the mark. The Dark Mark had troubled him the evening of the attack, though not nearly as painful as a summons from his master. However, he couldn't deny the constant tingling, the writing and itching under his skin indicating clearly to him that with the death of Dumbledore, the Dark Lord was making a move, he just didn't know what.