Disclaimer: I do not in anyway or fashion own HP or anything else. I'm making no money from this
Thanks for my beta Bell Witch
Chapter 2 - Awakening
Severus opened his jet-black eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room. He didn't know this place, and it made him nervous. He tried to sit up so he could better see his surroundings. The movement caused his whole body to ache, and a moan of pain escaped him. He closed his eyes and tried to block the pain from his mind. Taking a deep breath, he eased himself back on the bed slowly.
He didn't know where he was, or how he got here. His mind was foggy, his memories confused. Some of these flashed before his eyes. They didn't make sense: there were faces without names and names without faces. Places he'd never been to but still seemed familiar. Himself, grown. He was sure that his headache was the worst in his young life.
He'd been hurt before; his body knew pain. But then he would wake up in the dungeons of his family's manor. This room wasn't in any dungeon.
He felt like something was amiss, but could not put his finger on what. He coughed, regretting the movement when pain shot through his shoulder.
The noise of faint movement caught his ears, making Severus look up from his musing. The first thing he noticed was the blood red eyes, practically glowing in the shadowed corner of the room near the door. They made Severus uneasy, almost like he was prey for some predator. The man with the red eyes moved like a predator, with elegance and danger, his black cloak billowing after him.
Severus carefully examined the man's face. Besides the red eyes, he looked normal. His ebony hair and snow white skin gave him a mysterious look. But they weren't what made the breath catch in his throat--it was the aura, one of pure power and danger that told of darkness and pain.
His instincts whispered to run as far as he could and never look back, but he knew from experience that if he were to try, he needed to be sure he could get away or he'd pay dearly. With his body as it was, useless from pain, his chances of escape were nonexistent.
"My darling Severus, I am happy to see you awake again." The man's voice was like a warm blanket, soothing his nerves as the stranger moved closer to his bed. Voldemort's long fingers ran through Severus' shoulder-length hair, brushing it from the boy's face. He caught Severus' chin in his hand and turned it upward so that they could look in each other’s eyes.
"I thought I would lose you." His voice hitched slightly. "Everything was on fire. When I didn't find you I thought… I thought I would never see you again." He sat down beside the boy and pulled him into a tight embrace.
While it looked as though Voldemort was on the verge of tears; that was as far from the truth as could be. He was a Slytherin, and manipulation was in his blood--second nature. He knew his usual ways would not gain him the trust of this young boy, trust he needed or his little snake would betray him again--because it was in his blood as well. The best strategy for now was to play the loving parent.
He gathered the little boy in his arms and stroked his back and hair, calming him.
Severus exhaled in relief; he was safe for now. He moved into the embrace, seeking more warmth and comfort from it. Not long after, Voldemort pulled him away and looked into his deep, black eyes. In the older Severus, he never saw emotion; his eyes were endless dark tunnels. But now they were full of innocence, confusion, and deep down he could detect pain.
"You remember me, don't you?" Voldemort knew this little boy had never seen him before, but he needed to make it seem as though they knew each other. "You were so small when we last met, but I hoped you would remember me--us." His voice was filled with sorrow and pain.
Severus slowly lowered his eyes and bit his lower lip to mask his uncertainty and worry. He shook his head--no. In his memories, there was a faint echo of a man, this man, and he remembered this voice. It brought him pain and calm as well. Everything was in a haze. His muscles tensed and he curled inward, trying to appear smaller than he was. His whole posture screamed 'fear'. When Voldemort held up his hand, he knew pain would come--it always came. He waited. Instead of a blow, the hand started to stroke his hair.
"I am sure you are a bit confused, but you will remember." Severus could not see as the man's red eyes deepened with malice. "You were hurt. For weeks we did not know if you would live or die," he whispered. His voice was almost caring, almost. They sat in silence for a minute, with Severus seeking as much warmth and comfort from this man as he could get.
"Tell me, my boy, what do you remember?" He looked into confused midnight black eyes. He almost smirked, good humour for once glinting in his red eyes. "For example, how old are you?"
His reward was a little shy smile that lit up Severus' face. "Five." Then the boy blushed and looked down at his small hands, which had started to play with his fa… this man's hand. "I'll be five in January, next year."
Voldemort chuckled at the boy's antics. Severus' little lies has not disappeared with his lost years. Nor had Snape's glare, although what was arrogant and threatening as an adult now made him look adorable.
Adorable? Where did that thought come from?
"Of course, son. Now try to sleep my boy. You are not yet well--you need your rest." He smiled one of his charming, reassuring smiles that could melt stone, while he tucked in the small form of his son. As he stood, he felt a tiny tug on the sleeve of his robe and looked down, arching an eyebrow in a questioning manner.
"Where is grandfather? When will he come?"
"I am sorry, Severus, but he is dead." Voldemort saw the boy's eyes widen and a trembling run through his frame. "Julian… your grandfather was killed by aurors. That is how you were hurt. I won't allow you to be hurt again. I am your father and I will protect you and will never leave you alone." He ruffled the boy's silky black hair.
When Voldemort stood to leave, he didn't see Severus' eyes as they glittered with new hope and mischief. He buried his face into his soft pillow. Maybe he was safe.
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