Sins of the Father
A Harry Potter / Sasporilla Bucket Fan Fiction
by Darren Kelly
Marlon Wormwood was a tall thin man with oily stringy black hair and arms covered in tattoos. The only son of convicted death eater / child murderer Collin Wormwood, and worse still a SQUIB, Marlon had a hard time growing up in the magic community. Being the but of jokes, the subject of whispers and the recipient of all hatred and prejudice against his family name.
He'd barely squeaked by in school putting in only enough effort to achieve the lowest passing grade. He left home and his abusive mother at age 16. He lived on the streets until Myron Wagtail saw him outside an arena in London. He'd been sleeping in a cardboard box and surviving on scraps of food from the arena dumpsters. Myron gave him his chance to better himself by giving him a job. He became a roadie for the Weird Sisters. He moved equipment, set up mics and ran errands for the band. No one cared about who his father was and he was judged only by how well he worked. Still very much the loner, he fit in just fine.
This day he found himself standing in the middle of an empty muggle highway with a wand pointed to his arm and looking up at the glowing green dark mark high above in the clouds. It had worked! All those years ago his father had marked his eager son with skull and snake. The child was as eager to serve the dark lord as his father, but to young to be of any real use. Though be made a good bait for the children the dark lord ordered killed. As well as an eager and competent partner in crime.
The Weird Sisters Myron Wagtail wrote a song about his father and his 'evil' deeds. As if "HE" could understand what it meant to serve Lord Voldimort with unwavering loyalty or the pleasure in taking a useless unworthy life. A rush of wind and smoke and a flash of light pulled his gaze back to the road.
"Who dares to summon me?" Lord Voldemort hissed as he stepped from the mist of apperation. 2 death eaters on either side of him.
"I call my Lord." Marlon Wormwood said taking a knee before him. "I am Marlon Wormwood, Son of Collin, and your faithful servant. I meant no disrespect my lord but as I've heard the whispers of your return I had to step from the shadows and make myself known to you."
"Ah." Voldemort said stepping forward. "Collin Wormwoods son. I had been in formed that you were a Squib? So how is it possible you wield a wand and have the magical abilities needed to summon me,"
Voldemorts icy claw tipped the young mans head up sharply.
"I lead everyone, even my family, to believe I was squib after my father was taken." Marlon sneered.
"Why would you make yourself an outcast?" Voldemort hissed.
"So I might continue the training my father started in secret. I kept my fathers books and learned everything I will need to better serve you my Lord."
"Such loyalty." Voldemort smiled. "Yet I still do not understand why?"
"For vengeance on those who put my father and your followers in Azkaban Prison." Marlon said. "For hate sake I beg you to let me help you destroy them. Destroy them all!"
Lord Voldemort laughed haughtily as he took the young mans hand. Marlon kissed the dark lords ring.
"Rise Marlon Wormwood." Voldemort smiled. "Stand at my side and prove to me your worth with a test of loyalty."
A bus appeared around a distant bend in the road. Marlon recognized it instantly. It was the Weird Sisters tour bus.
********************
The members of the band were all lumps under the blankets in their beds as Myron Wagtail came out of the loo scratching his sleepy head. With a yawn he walked to the front of the bus.
William the bands manager stood beside the driver. Myron heard them say "What is that in the road ahead?"
"Destroy it." Lord Voldemort hissed. "Kill your friends a gesture to me."
"They are no friends of mine." Marlon said as he pointed his wand at the bus and started singing Grimmly Fiendish. "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!!!"
A large blast of force flew from Marlons wand and struck the bus. William and the driver took the full force of the blast as glass and steel rained through them. Myron flew backwards down the bus past the beds where pillows and baggage took the place of his sleeping band mates.
The bus flipped end over end and burst into flames as it crashed through a sign at the side of the road. A single figure thrown burned and bloodied to the pavement.
Marlon walked to the body that clawed at the pavement to get away. It was the band Manager William. Marlon rolled the man over and looked deep into his terrified eyes.
"Wormwood", William Gasped. "WHY?"
"I just wanted you to know who betrayed you." Marlon Smiled. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
In a blast of green light the life of the Weird Sisters band manager William Gjurnalgoth was gone.
Lord Voldemort clapped as Marlon walked back towards him. He motioned to the death eaters to remove their masks. Behind them were the members of the Weird Sisters.
"Good my boy." Voldemort chuckled. "Very good. You have proven yourself worthy Marlon Wormwood. Take your place beside me and let us discuss your future."
Marlon took his rightful place beside his Master. "I will do as you bid me my Lord."
He'd barely squeaked by in school putting in only enough effort to achieve the lowest passing grade. He left home and his abusive mother at age 16. He lived on the streets until Myron Wagtail saw him outside an arena in London. He'd been sleeping in a cardboard box and surviving on scraps of food from the arena dumpsters. Myron gave him his chance to better himself by giving him a job. He became a roadie for the Weird Sisters. He moved equipment, set up mics and ran errands for the band. No one cared about who his father was and he was judged only by how well he worked. Still very much the loner, he fit in just fine.
This day he found himself standing in the middle of an empty muggle highway with a wand pointed to his arm and looking up at the glowing green dark mark high above in the clouds. It had worked! All those years ago his father had marked his eager son with skull and snake. The child was as eager to serve the dark lord as his father, but to young to be of any real use. Though be made a good bait for the children the dark lord ordered killed. As well as an eager and competent partner in crime.
The Weird Sisters Myron Wagtail wrote a song about his father and his 'evil' deeds. As if "HE" could understand what it meant to serve Lord Voldimort with unwavering loyalty or the pleasure in taking a useless unworthy life. A rush of wind and smoke and a flash of light pulled his gaze back to the road.
"Who dares to summon me?" Lord Voldemort hissed as he stepped from the mist of apperation. 2 death eaters on either side of him.
"I call my Lord." Marlon Wormwood said taking a knee before him. "I am Marlon Wormwood, Son of Collin, and your faithful servant. I meant no disrespect my lord but as I've heard the whispers of your return I had to step from the shadows and make myself known to you."
"Ah." Voldemort said stepping forward. "Collin Wormwoods son. I had been in formed that you were a Squib? So how is it possible you wield a wand and have the magical abilities needed to summon me,"
Voldemorts icy claw tipped the young mans head up sharply.
"I lead everyone, even my family, to believe I was squib after my father was taken." Marlon sneered.
"Why would you make yourself an outcast?" Voldemort hissed.
"So I might continue the training my father started in secret. I kept my fathers books and learned everything I will need to better serve you my Lord."
"Such loyalty." Voldemort smiled. "Yet I still do not understand why?"
"For vengeance on those who put my father and your followers in Azkaban Prison." Marlon said. "For hate sake I beg you to let me help you destroy them. Destroy them all!"
Lord Voldemort laughed haughtily as he took the young mans hand. Marlon kissed the dark lords ring.
"Rise Marlon Wormwood." Voldemort smiled. "Stand at my side and prove to me your worth with a test of loyalty."
A bus appeared around a distant bend in the road. Marlon recognized it instantly. It was the Weird Sisters tour bus.
********************
The members of the band were all lumps under the blankets in their beds as Myron Wagtail came out of the loo scratching his sleepy head. With a yawn he walked to the front of the bus.
William the bands manager stood beside the driver. Myron heard them say "What is that in the road ahead?"
"Destroy it." Lord Voldemort hissed. "Kill your friends a gesture to me."
"They are no friends of mine." Marlon said as he pointed his wand at the bus and started singing Grimmly Fiendish. "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!!!"
A large blast of force flew from Marlons wand and struck the bus. William and the driver took the full force of the blast as glass and steel rained through them. Myron flew backwards down the bus past the beds where pillows and baggage took the place of his sleeping band mates.
The bus flipped end over end and burst into flames as it crashed through a sign at the side of the road. A single figure thrown burned and bloodied to the pavement.
Marlon walked to the body that clawed at the pavement to get away. It was the band Manager William. Marlon rolled the man over and looked deep into his terrified eyes.
"Wormwood", William Gasped. "WHY?"
"I just wanted you to know who betrayed you." Marlon Smiled. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
In a blast of green light the life of the Weird Sisters band manager William Gjurnalgoth was gone.
Lord Voldemort clapped as Marlon walked back towards him. He motioned to the death eaters to remove their masks. Behind them were the members of the Weird Sisters.
"Good my boy." Voldemort chuckled. "Very good. You have proven yourself worthy Marlon Wormwood. Take your place beside me and let us discuss your future."
Marlon took his rightful place beside his Master. "I will do as you bid me my Lord."
PLEASE REMEMBER
I am in no way affiliated with Warner Bros. or with J.K.Rowling. My work is purely that of fan fiction & do not ask for, nor accept money, gifts or other compensation for my work. If you really feel you must do something, research which charities J.K.Rowling donates to, then donate to them as such.
I am in no way affiliated with Warner Bros. or with J.K.Rowling. My work is purely that of fan fiction & do not ask for, nor accept money, gifts or other compensation for my work. If you really feel you must do something, research which charities J.K.Rowling donates to, then donate to them as such.