A/N: Hello hello hello! The sequel is finally here :D I know I kept you waiting for a while, but I had to get into the swing of things again and figure some things out. Real Life Not Helping. Anyway, this is about the story. The entire summary wouldn't fit at all, so I'll write it below in a moment, and you'll get a good idea about what to expect. I have to say, if you're a new reader, you should read "The Last Riddle" first, or this won't make any sense to you, but if you've already read the first installment, welcome back! I'll try to answer to all your reviews, but sometimes time won't let me and I apologize in advance for that. Now, I realize you're not here to read an Author's Note, so let's get this party started already xD

Summary: They all knew peace was too good to last. Albus Dumbledore knew that Jack Riddle's survival could only mean trouble. Harry Potter knew that the strangers behind Cedric Diggory's death were more than met the eye. Lord Voldemort knew he could not hide anymore. Jack Riddle knew things were about to take a turn for the worst. What Albus Dumbledore didn't know was that the Dark Prince would be the least of his problems. What Harry Potter didn't know was how much the strangers would change his life. What Lord Voldemort didn't know was that his past would be back haunt him. What Jack Riddle didn't know was how deep he would get into a game with only one rule: to kill... or be killed.

Prologue

Jeffald Webber crashed against the wall, dead before he slid to the floor.

Minutes before, he had delivered very bad news to his employer and he had paid the price of eliciting the man's fury. No one would remember him, as it usually happened to agents working undercover for the government. His identity had been changed, and every record of the original one had been erased. Had he known the way he would end up he would have never confirmed the rumours.

The Secretary was now pacing around the chamber, breathing deeply and already feeling regret for killing Jeffald. Good agents were hard to come by, after all. However, right now he had to deal with much more important issues than guilt, and so pushed emotion aside and tried to clear his head.

'So the rumours are true, eh Jeffald?' he thought with no small amount of worry. This could bring his plans to a screeching halt, or at least jeopardize them. The boy's survival would cost him more than he was willing to pay, and to top it off, he was certain the Emperor had had a hand in the matter.

He sighed and ran a hand through his grey hair. His superiors would be far from pleased when they heard that the empire they were trying to build was threatened by the boy's mere existence. He thought he had sent the little runt to his death the day he authorized the mother's assassination, throwing him into the clutches of the most ruthless slave traders he knew of.

It had been the perfect, foolproof scheme. Had the boy died in a labour camp or a mine, beaten to death, experimented on or overworked, it would be seen as a terrible misfortune that such a promising young leader had fallen prey to slavery. After all, children and adults disappeared on a weekly basis from every segment of society; there was nothing that guaranteed the Dark Lord's family was safe from the slave traders. No one would be able to link the boy's death to a member of the government, and consequently, the Secretary's superiors.

He knew he had taken an almost reckless risk when he allowed Samantha Ravine to be killed, the last Heir of Ravenclaw –with the exception of her son- but if there was someone alive who could uncover the truth, that would be her. The witch had been inconveniently sharp and she had loved her little boy more than life itself, which complicated things. Thankfully, she had been soul-bonded to the Dark Lord, closer than a consort, yet not legal in any way. (Somehow the Dark Lord didn't seem like the marrying type, he thought with a laugh.) At any rate, her relationship with the Dark Lord had made her a target for anyone seeking revenge on him. If things came to worst, revenge would be the first thing that crossed Voldemort's mind, clouding his judgement and drawing attention away from the Wizengamot. Then, of course, the fruitless search for his young heir would sidetrack him. If things had gone according to plan, the most powerful Dark family in centuries would have been torn apart and would have ceased to be a threat.

The problem was they hadn't.

Lady Ravine was dead. Lord Voldemort was probably dead, too.

Their son was not.

While Voldemort had been a force to be reckoned with, the boy had been the real threat. Heir to both Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, the child was destined to grow into a more powerful wizard than his parents. He was a born leader with the right amount of intelligence, passion and hatred to bring down the conspiracy in its entirety. By killing his mother and condemning him to slavery, they had unwillingly fuelled their enemy's drive, and now it was more urgent than ever to kill the boy before he became a full-grown adult.

If for some reason the boy figured out that the Secretary was behind his mother's death, it wouldn't mean anything. Perhaps the now fourteen-year-old boy would not make the connection to a whole conspiracy, and instead think the Wizengamot only wanted to land a blow on his father. But Jack Riddle was his mother's son. He would grow, and he would begin to connect the dots. Once he did, their plan would be at the greatest peril.

The Secretary paused in his pacing and stared at the stone fireplace on the far wall, knowing he would have to act the messenger this time. Hopefully his superiors would not lose their temper as he had done, because if they did then the Secretary would be joining Jeffald very soon.

Steeling himself he walked to the fireplace and reluctantly held the pouch with Floo Powder, already praying for Destiny to be merciful. He hoped to find one of his low-ranking superiors, instead of one of the two in the highest position of power. The female was especially vicious.

He threw a pinch of powder into the hearth and stepped back as the flames grew and turned green. He knelt down and placed his head in the fire. Clearly and loudly he called, "Ironmond!"

Seconds later, his head stopped spinning and he opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. The dark coloured furniture looked expensive, as did the rugs underneath it, but the bronze chandeliers were ridden by age and soot from the fires that burned in them. Aside from the various items, the room was empty.

He had known something like this could happen, but he was not fooled. He needed to wait. His superiors were extremely cautious when it came to contact with the world, and so he needed to wait until the room recognized him and alerted one of his superiors to his presence.

Sooner than he would have liked, the fire in the chandeliers flared and flooded the room with light, announcing the entrance of a Firewielder. He clutched his ring nervously, knowing which of his superiors was a Firewielder. Alas, luck was not with him that evening.

A woman in a dark red dress stepped into the light with catlike grace, much like a hypnotizing flame herself. Her ivory skin contrasted sharply with her raven hair, and her bright amber eyes only added to her attractive but dangerous looks. Out of the Secretary's seven superiors, she seemed to be the embodiment of beauty, rivalled only by the Elven maidens. Her body was young, but the spirit within it was as old as time.

She paused her graceful stride in the middle of the room to stare at him neutrally. The Secretary resisted the urge to gulp at her close scrutiny of him. This woman had held the highest position of power among his superiors until a month before, when her superior arrived, but that did not make her any less intimidating.

"What news do you bring, Vayu?" she asked softly, somehow making her seem more menacing.

The Secretary shrunk back a little. "I am afraid they are not good news, my Lady."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Vayu hoped he was not sweating. "My undercover agent, Jeffald, brought some disturbing information to my attention only minutes ago. It would seem that-"

"Vayu," cut the woman lazily. "Is this about the Dark Prince?"

Vayu gaped for a moment before catching himself. "How did you-?"

The woman laughed... it was a musical sound, but somehow sinister. Her amber eyes were sparkling with mirth when she turned to look at him again. "Vayu, you silly old man, we knew the Prince was alive all along. We do have connections. Why, we met the boy just last month."

"I am afraid I do not understand, my Lady," said Vayu uncertainly. They had known and kept him out of the loop?

She smirked. "Vayu, do not expect us to share all of our information with you," she chided maliciously. "Remember you are only an associate who will be rewarded in the end; you are not one of us. You are betraying your own kind, old man, how are we to know that you will not get cold feet along the way and betray us next?"

The man spluttered. "My Lady, I would never-"

"Do not speak of the future, Vayu, you do not know what it holds," snapped the woman. She went back to her calm demeanour in the blink of an eye and faced away from the fireplace. "We are all victims of Destiny in this realm."

Then came a silence broken by the crackling of the flames. It extended for almost a minute before the woman spoke again.

"Do not worry about Jack Riddle, Vayu," she told him while still looking away from him. "He might be destined to become a powerful wizard, but he is still young. His father gave us a hard time when we first tried to put the plan into motion, but he also taught us how not to proceed. The Prince will not know what hit him."

She turned around and narrowed her eyes at him. "Leave the boy to us. Stay in your post as Chief Warlock and Imperial Advisor, and alert us to any movements Emperor Tersias might be planning to make. However, if things come to worst, we may have to assassinate Tersias next. Your job requires you to fill in for Tersias until Prince Ianver is off age, does it not?" Vayu opened his mouth, but Laverna wouldn't let him speak. "It might look suspicious to kill Tersias a few years after we poisoned his father, but I suppose it is a risk we will have to take," she sighed. "About the boy… there must be a way of getting into his school." Then she frowned and stroked her chin in contemplation. "By Hades, that little runt is really a thorn in my side. We have to get rid of him as soon as possible."

Vayu silently agreed. As long as the boy was alive there would always be a real threat to the plan, because Jack Riddle was not only destined to be powerful… he was destined to become a Dark Lord and, as such, destined to command great armies and enormous political power. Yes… if someone could put an end to their plans that was him, and so Secretary Vayu agreed with his superiors.

The new era could not begin until the Dark Prince was dead.