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Email: ladyofarundel@y... Rating: R, due to mpreg and Voldemort's anger-management issues. Pairing: TR/SS…but definitely not of the garden variety Disclaimer: The characters and universe herein belong to JKRowling; the plot is my own. Warnings: This story is SLASH and involves MPREG (I've been itching to write one…I'd rather it be a Harry!MPREG, but, well, it's not). Other than that, it's relatively lacking in the blood and kink that graces most of my slash fic. Actually, there's LOVE and SAP and gooey sweetness…or, well, at least in the beginning. I blame it on listening to Enya for hours. Can't promise it'll last. Don't worry, devoted dark!fic readers, it'll get there, just give me some time… Notes: Severitus challenge response. I can tell you that because it should be blatantly obvious by the end of Part I, for those astute readers out there. Do the math. This is the prequel for one of my unfinished stories, Color of Crimson (which had a rather persistent case of writer's block, until I dreamt up this twist). But don't go off reading that, because it now needs to be edited and lightly rewritten due to this prequel. Read it once this is finished. Please. More Notes: This is a slight AU take on Voldemort's first rise to power. A different explanation of Voldemort's motivations and Severus's betrayal of the Dark—why did he became a spy for the Light? Slight AU means I'm following cannon as closely as possible (um, aside from the blatant slash and mpreg deviations), but have to make small exceptions…e.g., Tom Riddle hasn't *quite* dropped completely off the map…
He awoke to gentle chimes and silken hair, soft skin wrapped in muted morning light. For a long moment he lay there, his husband curled up against him with his head pillowed against his chest, and life consisted of naught but his beloved sleeping in his arms and the fresh scent of lilac and lemon pressed into the bedclothes. But these were perilous times, and soon the unfinished plans and work to be done and worries of the world beyond the bed curtains intruded and with great reluctance set about untangling himself from the lithe form sharing his bed. Gently he eased himself out from beneath his sleeping husband, smiling softly as the younger man sighed sleepily and nuzzled into the warmed pillows. `Beautiful,' he mused, pushing errant strands of ebony out of the porcelain, angelic face of his husband. `So heart-achingly beautiful.' A vision of sweet beauty and innocence that had first drawn him to the younger wizard nearly a decade ago, but it was the wit and intellect and power of the man behind that vision which had at last captured his heart. He drew the duvet up around his lover, careful to guard the delicate sleeping man against the winter chill, his hand lingering in awe along the gentle swell of his beloved's stomach. Their child. This swell was his child, that was his own flesh and blood growing within the man he loved more than words or magic could ever express. He didn't bother to fight the goofy grin the thought of his unborn son or daughter inevitably brought forth. Little over three months since his beloved had nervously broken the news—he was so beautiful when he was nervous—and each time the simple thought that he was going to be a father filled him with such joy it was like he was learning of their coming arrival for the very first time. He showered and dressed quickly before returning to their bed, fastening the clasps of his winter cloak and drinking in the sight of his sleeping husband. With something of reverence he cautiously sat on the side of the bed, bent, and lightly kissed the swell that was his unborn child before sliding up the slight form of his husband and repeating the motion with a light brush across tender lips. He pulled away and his eyes locked with smiling, sleepy black eyes. "Oops," he whispered, grinning as he stole another kiss. "Didn't mean to wake you, love." "S'all right." The younger wizard stretched languidly and tugged at his husband's cloak. He acquiesced—he always did for him—and settled down for a deeper kiss, mindful of the distribution of his weight. His husband laughed into his mouth, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. "I'm not going to break, you know." "Yes, love, I know," dashing quick kisses across his beloved's brow, "I can't help it. You're both so precious to me, if anything ever happened… You never complain about anything, or say when you're in pain, you give me so much and you've given me this," his hand caressing his love's stomach, "the greatest gift of your love for me, and if I ever were to hurt either of you, I don't know if I—" "Hush, love. I understand…" He watched as his husband yawned and nestled into the covers, light lines of exhaustion apparent to his practiced eye. With a quick flick of his wand—yew and phoenix feather—he charmed the duvet to stay warm. Concerned, he lay a hand on his beloved's forehead. "Are you feeling alright? No morning sickness?" "I'm fine, love, no morning sickness, I'm only tired. Stop fussing or you'll be late." "Very well." He paused in contemplation as he did each morning, wishing he could share his plans for their future with his husband, but he didn't dare put his love and his child in that sort of danger. His beloved, nearly asleep again, didn't seem to notice the hesitation. "I fear I might be away for several days this time, Ministry business, love. Promise me you won't worry?" "I'll always worry, but I promise. Honestly, I don't know how you can stand working with those incompetents at the Ministry, demanding such long hours..." He hummed in reply and kissed his husband once more, pushing aside the powerful urge to climb back into bed and spend the day holding his love and their child. Now more than ever it was vital that his work proceed according to plan, now that together he and Severus were bringing a new life into the world. The day his beautiful Severus broke the news that he was expecting, he had plunged into his work, vowing that his child would be born into a world to be proud of, a world that would be at his command. The wizarding world was on the verge of its own destruction and only he could put a stop to it. The old ways were being forgotten, ancient wisdom corrupted, magical culture diluted by muggle-loving old fools— He broke his line of thought before he became too angry and lost control of his magic—as it still had a tendency to do in moments of fury, despite years of training; surely raw magical energy was unhealthy for the baby and his husband. Despite his protests to the contrary, Severus was rather frail, the pregnancy overly taxing on his system despite his young age of twenty-three. Which was why it was increasingly important that he not involve his husband in his plans—their plans, truly—until after the child was born and Severus was well again, and why he had to be more careful now than ever before, for if he put his husband and child in danger, no matter how inadvertently… "It's only for the time being, love. Someone must keep an eye on old Dumbledore. Sleep well, Severus. I love you. Owl me the instant anything feels wrong, alright?" He caressed his love's cheek fondly before at last taking his leave. He turned at the doorway once more—Severus was smiling, a hand protectively resting on his stomach. "Yes Tom, I promise. I love you, too. Hurry home to us." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Severus Snape first met the enigmatic Tom Riddle at the end of the summer before his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mr. Riddle was a former associate and partner of his father, the honorable Judge Thaddeus Snape, and so when his old friend had at last returned home to England after years spent on the Continent, the generous Lord Snape had hosted a select celebration. The young master of the house was then a boy of twelve (and a half!) who had inherited the strong will of his father and the haunting beauty of his mother, not to mention the power of both. He was terribly excited for at long last he had escaped the clutches of the gossipy women gathered in Mother's drawing room had been allowed instead to join the older men once they had adjourned to father's study. Severus lingered in the background politely entertaining Father's guests while Father periodically allowed him to steal small sips of his brandy. He felt inexplicably drawn to the man with bright green eyes and wild ebony hair—which vaguely reminded him of James Potter from school but didn't annoy him nearly as much. Mr. Riddle exuded an aura of power and wisdom matched perhaps only by Headmaster Dumbledore, and Severus couldn't help but sit back and simply watch the guest of honor as he worked the room. He was so caught up in this mysterious stranger that he barely noticed his father's approach, and most certainly missed the gleaming twinkle in Father's eye as he determined the object of his son's attentions. "Perhaps there's a chance…" Thaddeus murmured to himself, and young Severus sharply looked up at his father, startled and blushing at being caught staring. Lord Snape inwardly scolded himself for speaking aloud and smiled to put his son at ease, motioning for him to follow him. Thaddeus crossed the room and pressed a hand on Mr. Riddle's shoulder and proudly nodded to his child. "Tom, I would like to present my son and heir, Severus Adieus Snape." Severus colored shyly, looking up at Father's friend through wisps of the renowned Snape black hair. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir." Mr. Riddle smiled and extended his hand. "Severus, I do believe the pleasure is all mine." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Mr. Riddle had seemed as intrigued by Severus as Severus had been by him. Mr. Riddle entertained him with tales of his many travels through Eastern Europe, describing the wilds of Romania, the special blend of magic practiced in the Baltics, the dark magic of Siberia. Master Snape the younger politely answered Mr. Riddle's inquiries to his studies: how proud he was to be sorted into Slytherin, how intolerable it was to share classes with the Gryffindors, how excited he was to try out for a spot on the house quidditch team (Father had bought him the new Comet 220 for that very purpose!), how he thought he liked potions class the best and even Professor Bulywig, a Gryffindor, had grudgingly admitted Severus was quite gifted in the field. Mr. Riddle had picked up a number of volumes on potions in his travels, some of them quite advanced and certainly rare, and perhaps as the younger Master Snape progressed in his studies, would he someday be interested in viewing Mr. Riddle's private collection? Severus was most interested indeed, and Mr. Riddle laughed that perhaps Severus ought to have been sorted a Ravenclaw instead. Before the boy grew too indignant he chuckled and assured Severus he had been joking, tipping the boy's chin with his finger and gravely made him promise never to be ashamed of his thirst for knowledge, that it was a great gift indeed and knowledge was the key to great power. Too quickly it was time for the adults to be left alone. Severus was quite reluctant to bring one of the most exciting evenings of his short life to a close, and only could be consoled by Mr. Riddle's assurance that he was certain they would see much of each other in the future. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Tom Riddle watched the beautiful, innocent boy allow himself to be led off to bed by his mother, young Severus nearly bouncing as he excitedly told the lovely Adara of his evening, eyes bright and hands moving wildly. Adara smiled at Thaddeus and shepherded her son from the room as the boy acquiesced, but not before glancing over his shoulder at Tom with a shy smile just as the study doors swung closed. A smile tugged the corners of his lips and Tom's gaze lingered for a moment in the direction the boy had taken before he allowed himself to be drawn back into the conversation at hand. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* The following day and owl arrived from Mr. Riddle, sending heartfelt thanks to dear Thaddeus and Adara for their gracious and warm welcome, congratulating them on raising such a brilliant and courteous young man as Severus, and asking Thaddeus if he would like to continue their conversation from the previous evening at a small gathering Mr. Riddle would be hosting—a house warming of sorts— Friday next. A postscript had been added, wishing Severus the best of luck at quidditch try-outs next month. After much gentle prodding from Mother, Severus sent a brief thank you to Mr. Riddle, deciding to use Nestor, his favorite owl. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Lord and Lady Snape sent their son an owl congratulations Slytherin's new seeker (one of the youngest in over a century, although not quite the youngest), for his success. On the heels of Father's prideful boasts Mother hinted that perhaps Mr. Riddle would be interested to hear the good news from Severus himself, and thus began in earnest his correspondence with Mr. Riddle. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* They began to exchange letters. Severus's first notes were timid and brief; he was painfully afraid he was wasting the brilliant and popular Mr. Riddle's time and hoping he wouldn't write anything that sounded too stupid or immature for the likes of his father's old friend. After all, why would an adult as great Mr. Riddle want to waste his time writing to a thirteen-year old boy? But Mr. Riddle's replies were always kind and flowing and never condescending and after a time Severus opened up in his letters and soon was the bright, eager boy Mr. Riddle met in the private study of Snape Manor. Their letters increased in frequency, filled with stories of the latest prank played by the no-good Gryffindors, suggestions of new pranks bound to surprise the so-called Marauders, caricatures of professors, Severus's excited reports on new spells learned in class, and stories from Mr. Riddle's days at Hogwarts—old Dumbledore allowed the oaf Hagrid to stay on as the groundskeeper? How appalling! During fourth year Severus's letters once more became hesitant and the boy himself closed off. Mr. Riddle quickly became concerned and delicately coaxed the matter out of his young friend, assuring the boy he had his fullest confidence and that he would think no less of him. Shyly the boy began to send him questions about potions and spells he dared not ask his professors and frustrations over the limitations on the topics discussed in classes. At last Severus drew up the courage to ask directly, still fearing the rejection and outrage of his closest confidant. Did Mr. Riddle happen to know anything about the Dark Arts? Mr. Riddle felt intensely honored the boy trusted him and had at last opened up to him, and told Severus so in his next letter. Yes, he happened to be quite knowledgeable in the Dark Arts, and would be happy to tutor Severus if he so wished. He furthermore assured the boy that his curiosity about the Dark Arts was nothing to be ashamed of—had he not told him long ago that knowledge was power?—and that in fact in learning the Dark Arts he would be continuing a proud Snape family tradition. He could practically read the crimson blush and excitement in the boy's reply, ever the Ravenclaw in Slytherin snake skin. This prompted a long letter from Father, heavily warded, congratulating him on his interest in true magic and detailing the lesser-known aspects of the Snape family history. Father assured his son he knew this must all be overwhelming for the boy and expected nothing from him, explaining that he and Mother had decided not to actively raise him by the Dark Arts until he was old enough to truly understand them. To embrace the Dark Arts was a life-changing decision and not one to be taken lightly, and he and Mother had wanted Severus to make the decision himself and not be forced into it. Only conscious acceptance, Father wrote, gave the Dark Arts true power. "Knowledge and will are the true keys to power and the self, my son. Remember that always." Severus's mind made up, Mr. Riddle began to send the boy works on the Dark Arts (under concealment, of course), some that the boy realized he recognized from Father's private library while others were deliciously foreign to him. He read them all furiously, sending his Father and Mr. Riddle long scrolls of comments and observations and questions, and he quickly excelled at his newest subject as did he in all his regular courses. In the midterm report sent home to parents, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Wilkes commented on Severus's increased interest and attention in class (and, of course, his standard top marks), adding that he looked forward to seeing Thaddeus and Tom that following Saturday. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Mr. Riddle was a frequent visitor to Snape Manor, particularly whenever Severus returned home for school holidays, invariably setting aside time to spend with his favorite protégé. Thaddeus had entrusted his son's extracurricular education in his dear friend's hand—after all, who was more qualified to teach his son than the rising Dark Lord? Not that Lord and Lady Snape, nor Mr. Riddle, felt it was quite time to share that sort of information with the boy. Severus and Mr. Riddle spent summer holidays pouring over Dark texts, playing quidditch, or experimenting in the Snape potions lab. Long hours were devoted to simply wandering the grounds and talking, Severus picking out the tree he had fallen from when he was six and pointing to the scar from the resulting broken arm and sharing other childhood adventures, Mr. Riddle teaching Severus the names of plants that they passed and their uses for both Light and Dark. On one such walk Mr. Riddle insisted that Severus call him Tom when they were alone, and Severus in return implored him to promise that they would always be the best of friends. Tom had smiled and ruffled the beautiful boy's hair, promising him they would be together forever. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Early on in fifth year, after several rather awkward encounters in the girls' dormitories of Slytherin (and Gryffindor), and one remarkably more pleasant experiment with Lucius, Severus at last admitted to himself that sexually he much preferred the male form. Homosexuality was not the least bit unusual or considered untoward in the wizarding world, yet the Snape heir found himself reluctant to engage in any serious entanglements beyond quick snogs in the team locker room. As one of the princes of Slytherin and the heir of his mother's charms he certainly had no shortage of offers from boys or girls alike, but Severus was never really interested. Instead of sneaking off to the Astronomy Tower Severus would wander off to the potions lab he had set up with Professor Bulywig's permission (grudgingly, of course), preoccupied more with resolving the instability of his latest invention than returning the flirtations of that slag Sirius Black. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Mr. Riddle extended an invitation to the younger Master Snape to join him for the last week of Christmas break at Salazar's Fen, his ancestral home on his mother's side. Tom simultaneously wrote Thaddeus and Adara reporting on their son's magical progress, suggesting that Severus had advanced enough for him to make good on his promise given years prior to show his favorite student his book collection. Severus had hurriedly asked Mother and Father for permission, breathless and with invitation still in hand. They had of course consented and Severus had raced off to owl Tom to accept. Severus was so excited that he completely missed the knowing smile shared between the Lord and Lady Snape at their son's slip of the tongue when he begged to be allowed to visit "Tom." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Tom and Severus shared their first kiss, chaste and unhurried and sweet, over an Albanian treatise on renacius serum in the library of Salazar's Fen that New Year's Eve.
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