In the shadows of Blood and Snakes [Sebastian Sallow x Gryffindor MC]

Prologue

The grand chamber was filled with the rich scent of aged wood and the soft glow of candlelight, casting long, dancing shadows on the stone walls. The air was heavy with the quiet hum of anticipation, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fireplace. At the center of the room, a large oak table bore a finely crafted chessboard, each piece meticulously carved and positioned for an intricate game.

Seated at the table, a man of distinguished presence contemplated his next move. Sharp and calculating eyes flickered with a mix of contemplation and quiet amusement, betraying a familiarity born of countless hours spent honing his skills in the art of strategy. In his hand, a glass of dark, amber liquid, which he swirled thoughtfully.

Across from him, a young man clad in dark robes leaned back in the armchair. "You seem particularly focused tonight," he said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth and measured, carrying a hint of curiosity.

The older man smiled, his eyes never leaving the chessboard. "Indeed, there is much on my mind," he replied, his tone calm and deliberate. He commanded a calculated move, making his rook attack an enemy bishop.

"The little witch, I suppose," the younger said, words laden with unspoken questions.

The other's smile widened, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. "Precisely." He confirmed, his voice smooth and melodious, betraying a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Tell me, what do you make of her?"

The young man inclined his head slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Her?" he replied, his tone tinged with amusement. "She is a fascinating creature, to be sure. Powerful, yet untamed. A valuable asset, if properly wielded." He pauses, his tone becoming even cooler, more collected. "But it's her ancestry that's truly intriguing. It's rare to find bloodlines as pure as hers."

The figure chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet chamber like the distant rumble of thunder. "Indeed," he murmured, his gaze never leaving the chessboard. "But power is but a means to an end. It is control that we seek. Control over our enemies, control over our allies, control over the very fabric of reality itself. We can't miss such...opportunity"

The young man leaned forward, his snake-like gaze unwavering." Opportunity," he echoed softly. "Her power combined with the family's lineage..." He trailed off, a slow smile spreading across his face, one that mirrors a predator that found its prey. His eyes glinted with barely contained eagerness, the wheels of his mind already turning. "The possibilities are limitless."

"Exactly. You understand quickly, son. She is the key to everything. But first, we must tame the wild beast within her, bend her to our will."

The younger's smirk widened, his eyes glittering with cold amusement at this challenge. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of the armchair, considering the task laid before him. "Tame her," he repeated, the corners of his mouth curling up into a cruel smile. "Yes, that will be quite a challenge, won't it?"

He rose from the armchair, striding forward towards the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He gazed out at the view outside, the landscape spread before him like a kingdom ready to be conquered.

"But I am more than up for the task," he continued, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. "I'll have that girl eating right out of the palm of my hand, just wait and see. Her power will be ours; her compliance, guaranteed."

The older man hummed, taking a sip of his drink. "Don't underestimate her. She's quite the challenge... We have to approach this in the right way."

The other turned to face him, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, don't worry, I'm well aware. She's a tenacious little thing, no doubt about that. But I have my own ways of dealing with her kind." He walked to a bar in the corner of the room, reaching for a bottle of Firewhiskey. He poured himself a generous measure, the amber liquid sloshing inside the glass.

"Perhaps... charming her would be our first and best choice" the dark figure grinned sinisterly.

His counterpart paused, the glass halfway to his lips. A slow, smug smile crept across his face at his words. "Charming," he repeated, a dark gleam in his eye. "That's not a bad idea at all." He took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the burning warmth as it slid down his throat. "Charm her, make her trust me. It'll make our job so much easier in the long run..."

"What do you think? Having that little powerful witch all for yourself?"

The young man let out a chuckle, leaning his shoulder against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, you know me too well," he replied, his voice smooth and silken. "Having her all to myself? The thought is...quite tantalizing." He took another sip, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But it's not just about that, is it? Her power, her bloodline... they're quite the tempting package to add to our line."

"Not so fast...we need other pawns for our game." The gentleman paused, looking attentively down at the chessboard. "Take the young boy, for example," he continued, his voice low and conspiratorial. "A promising dark talent, to be sure, but one in need of guidance. Guidance that only we can provide."

The young one's mouth curled up into a smirk. He sat down again, leaning back on the armchair, resting his head against the cushion. "Ah, him," he said, his voice silky. "A rather...troubled young boy, isn't he?"

"Indeed. Lost all of his family... we could offer him a new one" the other grinned.

The young man's smirk deepened in a cruel grin, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Clever. I see how that could work."

The figure smiled, a cruel twist of his lips. "You see, they are all but pawns in our game" he murmured, his voice dripping with malice. "Pawns to be sacrificed in the pursuit of our ultimate goal. And if they dare to defy us, if they dare to stand in our way, then they too shall feel the full force of our wrath."

With a harsh command, he made his king brutally smash a main piece from the enemy's lines, his eyes gleaming with ruthless determination. "For we are the masters of this game" he declared, his voice echoing in the quiet chamber like the tolling of a funeral bell. "And soon, all shall bow before us, or be crushed beneath our heel."

He ordered his rook to position itself in an empty square.

"Checkmate."