Prologue/Chapter One: And So, It Begins

This story is the result of an email discussion between “persever0” who wrote: ‘Because no one could make a convincing argument that Snape was a Veela.’

And Therese (morethansirius) who stated: ‘As the words ‘Dark Veela’ came to my mind the instant I read that, surely someone has written a Dark Veela fic? Because I *never* have original ideas.

Dark Veela?

I can see it now. Unlike their charming cousins, the Dark Veela repels everyone. In order to find true love, the Dark Veela must find that one special someone immune to their anti-charm.’

So, thank you very much persever0 and Therese (morethansirius) for the idea behind this story. Your emails lit a spark in me and I decided that when I finally got around to writing that it would be the prompt for my fanfiction.

Severus Snape lies dying in the Shrieking Shack when he sees a vision of his mother.

 Severus Snape had had a miserable childhood. His parents had married for entirely the wrong reasons, and his childhood home had been filled with strained silences punctuated by raised fists, yelled accusations, threats, beatings and mindless terror. So, when he had come to Hogwarts he had not been surprised to be despised or bullied. He had quickly learned though that if he was useful, cunning, resourceful, he could find a place amongst his equally cunning and ambitious house-mates. Lily’s friendship had been the one and only spot of happiness, but that too had ended with what he had come to call ‘The Incident’. It had hurt him greatly to discover that she could never forgive him. This wound had been made more raw by the fact that she had begun dating Potter soon after. Her betrayal of marrying Potter, the nemesis of his youth, had destroyed Severus’ hopes in friendship, in love. And although his love for her, his desire for her forgiveness had never died, in time, he had come to realise her shallowness, her worthlessness for his continuing devotion, even as he had continued to use her, his love for her as the only drop of light in his very dark ocean of misery and torment.

He had tried to find meaning and belonging through the study of the Dark Arts, and service of the Dark Lord, but that had soon revealed itself to be nothing but false promises and empty dreams. Lucius Malfoy had been the one honest constant in his life, and that relationship had been one of mutual ambition and exploitation. Severus had brewed him complex lust potions, poisons and elixirs and Lucius had given him the opportunity and backing to enter into Pureblood society. Although in truth, entry into Pureblood society had given him nothing but heartache and trouble. Indeed, he’d tried to gain a place in Pureblood society purely because Potter and that mongrel Black had been born into it, and because he had thought, foolishly, that Lily would be impressed and lured away by Severus’ rising prominence in society.

Dumbledore for all his merry twinkling had used him and given him no thought or consideration ever. Severus was no fool, he knew the only reason the Headmaster had taken him back was because he had something precious to offer. Information. And though over the years, Dumbledore had come to trust Severus, the trust had never turned to genuine friendship. It had always had the cloying taste of duty, of power held, and oaths sworn.

However, when he finally thought that life was done with him, when he finally thought he could be free in death, he was once again prevented from accepting the happiness, the light he had always desired, because as he lay dying alone in the Shrieking Shack, he saw a vision of his mother. His mother, not as she had seemed in his childhood and early youth, but as she should have been, her face blooming with love and happiness, her hair long and luscious, her figure ripe and unbearably beautiful.

“Mother, is that you, Mother?” asked Severus, bemused. He had thought he’d see Lily in death or the old twinkling goat, Dumbledore. In his worst nightmares, he had thought he’d see the accusing eyes of Potter and all the others he had been forced to kill under the Dark Lord’s orders. Sometimes he had even dreamt he’d see Charity Burbage, pleading with him to save her. But he’d never thought he’d see his mother, looking sensual and alive.

“Dear heart, it is me,” said Eileen Prince.

“But you look so different,” stated Severus stupidly. And then, seeming to recover himself, he looked round at what appeared to be billowing clouds and mist and demanded, “What’s going on? Where am I?”

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A/N: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.