The Next Generation of Harry Potter

by Phantasmagorical Me

Not all the Death Eaters, like the Malfoy's, turned to the good side after the humiliating defeat of Voldemort that Harry Potter gave him. Some cursed Harry's name, and passed their passion and desire for vengeance to their own children... Join Harry's children, who are left to fight off Voldemort's remaining followers and discover friendship where they least expect it.

MidnightShadow: Okay, here it is. Just a little preview. If you want this to continue, than please tell me in a review. If you don't like this, than this story will become a oneshot (despite how much I dislike oneshots; so much good matter in an unfinished story).

Albus was lost and hopelessly so. Again. He gave a groan of despair and frustration that he usually reserved for James. Just how many passages could one castle fit? How many moving staircases? And don't even mention those paintings. It gave him a migraine just thinking about those obnoxious figures painted delicately with oils onto rough canvas. He looked around helplessly, and then heard something.

"Lost, boy?" Asked a smooth, if not icy voice.

Albus turned so fast his neck cricked and he winced. A pearly white ghost stood before him. Transparent and floating, with greasy-looking shoulder-length hair that might have been black when he was alive. He wore a sweeping cloak that made him look strangely like a bat. His eyes were the color of midnight and made you think of cold, dark tunnels, and the most recognizable feature on his face was a rather long and hooked nose.

The manners that Albus's mother had drummed into his skull kicked in and Albus dipped into a graceful bow. James only tolerated his mother's lessons in etiquette with much moaning and complaining, but Albus had given her his rapt attention.

"Good evening, sir." He murmured, avoiding eye contact.

The pale ghost seemed slightly taken aback, yet pleased as he inclined his head towards Albus. "And to you."

Albus itched to rectify from the stiff bow, but knew it would be considered incredibly rude. So he waited for the ghost to make the first move.

"You seem to be a bit more polite than most of the imbeciles I have to stomach." The ghost said conversationally.

Albus smiled nervously to the floor. "My mother always said that manners would come in handy."

"And your mother is most correct." The ghost in question was surprised if not a little curious. "What is your name, boy?"

"Albus Severus Potter." Albus said, uncurling in a relieved fashion.

And as the boy straightened, Severus Snape gazed into his eyes. And he saw Lily Evans's emerald green eyes staring curiously back at him.