Chapter one

October 31, 1981

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

In a well furnished study there sat a man. Tall and slender, he was impeccably dressed in fitted robes of black cloth, while his other features consisted of dark brown hair and eyes, a long straight nose and rather angular face. To some, he could be deemed as rather handsome. His dark eyes were currently staring unseeingly as he absentmindedly tapped a quill against the pages of a journal with one hand, whilst scratching his familiar's head with the other.

He was deep in thought, thinking over all that has happened to him in the past several months.

Flashback- September 18, 1979

"My Lord! I have come to you as instructed! I have come with information !" A cloaked figure wheezed through the doorway, stooping in heavy black robes as he attempted a quick bow in respect to Lord Voldemort. He was seated in his study looking on in amusement whilst the woman he had been in discussion with jumped to her feet, snarling. "You show too little respect for your superiors, filth, especially to our Lord!" Lord Voldemort himself just chuckled, waving a hand to calm the distressed woman.

"It is alright my dear, he will learn in time. Rise, my brother. Please, tell me what news you bring to me?"

Voldemort sat behind his desk occupying his study, hands clasped together. The cloaked figure stood up, fidgeting slightly.

"I have just come from one of the meetings, my Lord, where a most startling revelation has been brought to our attention. The moment I heard of it, I knew you must be informed at once! Hence, why I have come here as quickly as I c-"

"I do not have time for idle chit chat, now, tell me what this important news is!" He was starting to lose patience for the young death eater, whom seemed to have recoiled slightly at the rebuke.

"M-my apologies my lord." Swallowing loudly, he carried on.

"As I had stated, um, I have just come back from the meeting. There was nothing of significance, at first, until D-Dumbledore-" Voldemort and the woman both hissed in distaste, "-He, arrived. He came and said that something of great importance has happened." Voldemort looked on, intrigued.

"He claimed that there has been told a prophecy, and that it pertains to you my Lord, and a m-male."

Silence pervaded, the only sound being the crackling embers coming from the fireplace.

Finally, the woman spoke, her eyes unblinkingly staring into the man. "A prophecy? What did it say!"

"I do not know. He never said the exact words, but he did say that it was between the dark lord and a male born around the summer time, end of July it sounded like. 'He will have power the dark lord knows not'. He said nothing more about it."

"You know nothing more of this? Did the old man not even explain anything at all?!" After not receiving a response, Voldemort quickly stood and went towards the man grasping his chin and forcing him to look into his eyes.

The man struggled at first, but Voldemort held on, as he delved into the man's mind searching out the memory of the meeting. After a minute's search he had discovered it, trying to discern any important information from it. With a snarl, he threw the young man down, whom collapsed on the ground clutching his head in pain.

Turning to the young woman, he spoke in anger. "It appears he is speaking the truth. Dumbledore claims a prophecy exists, and that it has to do with me and some male... Though he was purposely vague with the the details." Voldemort wandered over to the mantle, staring into the fire. "I believe though, that this individual must be a child."

The woman looked on in surprise. "A child, my lord? But how? Do you know more of what the prophecy may be about?"

Voldemort just shook his head, eyes narrowing. "No. As I said, he was purposely being vague. He did, however, state the other individual would be 'born as the seventh month dies', which makes me believe it refers to a child, whom has not been born. Yet. And being gifted with some power that I do not know of." Spinning around, he starred angrily at the two, both appearing to cower at the sight of his growing ire.

"Bella, I want you to monitor any and all witches that are expecting- starting now. They will make records at the hospital, or perhaps even in the family services department in the ministry. Do what you must to achieve this." Turning to the man whom was still sitting on the floor, "As for you, carry on with the meetings and tell me everything that happens and is discussed from now on! Information is vital, but you must maintain your subterfuge. We can't have them starting to wonder where your loyalties really lie." He smiled, his dark eyes glinting briefly with a hint of red.

End flashback

He was startled out of his thoughts when the clock on the mantle had chimed out the three quarter hour. Looking, he realized that it was already 8:45 pm. He had been sitting in his study for the past three hours, waiting. In the mean time, it had allowed him to think and question certain aspects of his life.

This whole ordeal with learning of this prophecy had made him seek out to make sure that it will never come to fruition. He trusted his followers, barely, though with their loyalty to him, they were willing to do anything that their master had bid them too.

Ever since one of his followers had come forward with the news of the creation of a prophecy, pertaining to him and some unknown boy, he had obsessed over trying to learn its contents which thus far he had been unsuccessful. Instead, he had followers seek out magical families that may be having a child that would fall under this criteria. He couldn't leave anything to chance.

Tonight was no different.

Still, he could not help feeling the growing sense of foreboding. The longer time had gone on with no obvious success, the more he felt that something was not right. Of course, he didn't really know quite what the success would entail, nor really what the success would actually be, but he felt that he would be victorious in his endeavours. After all, he scoffed, he is the adult currently, where as this other prophesied one is a mere infant at best. He knew his actions were thusly justified.

Staring off into his study, the firelight flickering off the walls and mirror adorning the mantle, the Voldemort's eyes wandered over to his ornate glass cabinet, taking in his most prized belongings. A sense of possessiveness over came him, contorting his once elegant features into a sneer. How dare anyone believe that a mere child could somehow possess a power unknown to him, the most powerful wizard to walk the earth!

He smiled, calming slightly when he felt the cool smoothness of his snake familiar slithering close to his legs.

"Ah my faithful Nagini.." He held out one long fingered hand, stroking the snakes scaly head. A hiss was all he had as a response.

Voldemort chuckled. "I can alwayssss trusst you, yesss." He knew he need not say anything. His familiar was probably the only living creature that he trusted more, certainly more so than even his followers.

He knew he was a powerful individual, he thought, both magically and intellectually. He had very little challenges, as could be seen by his support and popularity especially amongst his followers. He may not have been physically present, but he knew he was gaining control of much of the magical community. He relished at the thought of absolute power; the ability to rise and create an empire of magical beings whom would worship him, his magical ability, his prowess, and let him set the founding blocks for the new magical world that he knew was necessary for witches and wizards to truly thrive. He saw it is as necessary, as to him and many of his followers, he saw the beginning of the end of the magical world they used to know. He knew he was the one that needed to prevent its loss, and make sure the magical world was not forsaken. He was their leader.

He grew angry at the thought of how it had been run, allowing anything to happen with little control or laws to govern. Traditions were disappearing, and magicals were drifting and merging back into the world of muggles. How could this be tolerated? Mixing up of traditions, not maintaining the proper instruction and education in magic- he grew even angrier at such blatant disrespect towards the gift of magic.

Sighing, he tried to calm himself knowing he couldn't let such anger detract him from tonight's mission.

A flick of moisture to his hand brought his eyes to look down to his snake familiar.

"Nagini..." The snake hissed in response.

Which reminded him. He stood, slowly making his way around his desk, picking up the black journal and putting it on his book shelf. His hand drifted over the spine of the book while his eyes locked on to a small glass protective case laid face down, semi hidden, on the bottom shelf covered with a thick layer of dust and dead insects. Curious, Voldemort picked it up, vanishing the grime with a lazy flick of his hand. He froze, staring at the item in mild surprise.

Congratulations Tom M. Riddle, on your completion of your Seventh Year N.E.W.T.s

This award and certificate is handed to the top over all student of the year, achieving the highest marks and overall average of their peers in all five core subjects.

This award includes a full scholarship to a...-

Realizing he was still staring at his old school records, he snarled, vanishing the whole item as if it were nothing but unwanted rubbish, which with a smirk, was all he really saw it as anyways. He surmised it must have been sitting there for years, though how it went unnoticed to him... He was usually most attentive to his personal things. He would clearly have to go through his study again, and remove any unwanted items that may still be lingering.

Tom Riddle... Now there's a name he certainly no longer misses after adopting his newer title. He smirked, thinking how anyone would ever follow a powerful wizard, a leader, with a name like Tom Riddle! Thankfully, none of his death eater prodigies were aware of his prior history; he was very particular with how he presented himself to his followers and this included not sharing his original namesake. If they knew...

Snarling loudly, he stopped his train of thought, glancing over the rest of his belongings with a growing smile.

Arranged before him were a collection of his most important artifacts and books that he kept in his study. He had two heavily laden bookshelves, comprising of some very rare and important tomes that varied in subject matter. Between them was the ornately carved fireplace; a gilded mirror hung above while the antique clock was situated upon the mantle. The glass cabinet stood next to the desk, behind which held the only painting that was present in the room. On the corner of the desk was situated a wooden model of the globe, but being of magical origin, it manifested all celestial bodies when directed instead of showing just Earth.

Looking back towards the painting he stared in contemplation.

It was a depiction of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, with both being tempted by the snake. One of the few paintings in his possession, he thought it rather fitting to own, especially for him. Symbolic perhaps, but he certainly saw it as representative of him and his nature: Voldemort knew he was the embodiment of perfection. Being the most powerful wizard, gifted with parselmouth abilities from his beloved ancestors, he knew that he was chosen to be saviour of the wizarding world. He didn't succumb to temptations- at least the kinds he deemed as trivial. He saw himself as more of a combination of both man and snake- both of whom contain magical abilities. He could offer power to those who could only dream of it, but not suffer under such similar delusions himself. To some, this could be used for evil intents but he scoffed at this. There was no such thing as good or evil. Just... power.

He did not need to be a Seer to know that he would be the one to rule and govern, and recreate an empire that even Merlin himself could not have envisioned.

He stepped forward hissing to the painting. The snake, which had been perched upon one of the lower branches of the fruit tree, turned its face, hissing in response and slithered to the base of the tree. A moment later a soft click could be heard and the painting opened towards him. Inside was a small compartment in which a small black safe had been stored.

Voldemort brought this out, placing it on top of his desk. He came back around and sat down, shifting slightly when he could feel Nagini's head drop into his lap, where he then began to pet her scaly skin.

"Nagini... I would trusst you with thisss... But it isss unfortunate that you cannot do thisss for me." The snake responded with an angry hiss.

"Alass, I have sssearched, my Nagini, but I have not found any ansswersss. I musst do it thisss way."

Voldemort smiled, stroking the snake's head again, when his wards signalled that one of his death eaters had apparated in.

"Now, Nagini, I mussst go out tonight on businesss." The snake hissed again. "I know, my Nagini, but it iss unavoidable. You know I cannot leave anything to fate." The snake seemed to spit in anger. Voldemort chuckled, but became serious.

"I mussst assk of you, Nagini, to sstay here and guard my belongingss and the manor. They are most important to me, and I trusst no one elssse." The snake lifted its head up, its tongue flicking out. "Yesss." Voldemort smiled, "Do not worry, Nagini, I shall sssoon be back, and with one lesss problem."

The snake responded with a soft hiss.

XX

It was a rather cold and windy night; the dark shadows created from the few dim lamps causing an eery effect on an already rather foreboding gravel drive. The manor home that the gravel drive led to was surrounded by a copse of spruce trees, at the entrance of which stood a weathered sign post, no longer holding its labeled nameplate. At the precise moment of 9:00 pm, a soft pop could be heard, signalling the arrival of an incoming apparation.

A heavily cloaked man, stooped slightly against the wind, entered through the heavily rusted, creaky gate and began to hurriedly make his way up the drive towards the house. He never enjoyed this place, as it was rather off putting even in the day time, so he tried to hasten as quickly as he could. He was a man on a mission and he had much news to bring. When he finally entered the foyer of the home he sighed with some relief, as he saw that the room was quite empty and on further inspection he surmised that the property itself was also. That left only him and his master. He never really enjoyed being with the others, as he could barely stand the majority of them and an even fewer amount actually knew of his own identity. No, he thought to himself, he had a special role to his master.

At this, he remembered of the plan and quickly rummaged into his robes bringing out a small bottle and a vial. Opening the bottle, he dumped in the vial's contents making sure they mixed properly and watched as the potion changed from a murky brown to a deep royal blue. Holding up the potion, he smirked, "Cheers!" and swallowed down the potions contents.

The man grimaced at the taste and collapsed to his knees, gagging at the sudden pain wracking his body. Fuck, this potion's disgusting! And why does it have to be so bloody painful? He was panting, sweat beading his forehead. Shouldn't be much longer. He chanted repeatedly in his head, groaning loudly as his limbs and spine continued contort and stretch longer, his skin bubbling away as if he were melting wax. After several minutes of laying on the floor, the man slowly stood up, his knees cracking from discomfort, and inspected himself in the hall mirror. His hair had grown significantly- both thicker and darker in colour, with a matching, groomed beard now also having been grown along his jaw. His blue eyes could see that he would need to change his clothing, as his arms and legs were protruding out of each hole with several inches of skin showing. His reflection sneered, contorting his handsome face, as the man, rather bitterly, took out his wand and transfigured his too small robes into larger ones. Finished, he turned and made his way towards the stairs.

He scurried along to the study that his master occupied, excitement starting to replace any apprehension he once may have had. Before the door he could hear a soft hissing which he realized must be his master's familiar. Silence suddenly pervaded, and then the door creaked open, with a soft "Enter'." The man entered, unbalanced slightly due to his height, and clumsily bowed down to his master's feet.

"My Lord, I have come as quickly as I could!" A cold hand grasped his chin, angling it upwards so that he may look into his master's eyes. He couldn't help but feel a little shiver creeping down his spine as he took him in.

Voldemort was truly a sight to see. He still maintained his handsome features: thick dark brown hair, tall and lean, but the only sense that he could get that something was off was his extremely pale pallor and his eyes which almost had a hint of red in them. No, the man thought, his Lordship just emanates power. Pure, raw power. The Lord Voldemort beckoned the man to rise before him.

"Black? My my, positively sadistic aren't we?" Black smiled rather abashed, brushing the long dark hair from his eyes. Lord Voldemort chuckled, sitting back in his chair. "You have good news I hope? I have sent a few selected others to deal with the Longbottom spawn."

The man nodded, rummaging again into his pocket and bringing out a scrap of parchment.

"I have, my Lord, the address to the Potter's residence. I also know, on good faith, that they are there, alone, and that they are not expecting anyone." Lord Voldemort smiled, his teeth glinting in the light. "Wonderful! We must make haste. But first!" He turned, speaking now to his familiar. The man waited patiently as Lord Voldemort conversed, though not understanding a single word that was mentioned. Finally he turned around, clasping his hands together. "Just one last thing, Black, before we leave..." He seemed to drift off here, staring contemplatively towards a small black safe situated on his desk.

Black stood awkwardly, unsure of what he should do. "M-my Lord?"

Finally he seemed to come to again. "You are most faithful to me, are you not?"

The man nodded, "Of course master! Only ever to you!" The man positively simpered. "Dumbledore is nothing but a fool. My loyalty is only in you!" At this, the man bowed down again, kissing the hem of Lord Voldemort's robes. His master just chuckled softly, "I should never doubt you, as you have proven yourself most sincerely tonight. I just have but one last request."

The man straightened, looking at his master. "Anything, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort sighed, "I am rather, wary, of this though I know I should not be. We are just merely preventing what has supposedly been prophesied." He almost spat these last words out. "One can never take chances in that regard. No. But I must make sure." He seemed to have drifted off in thought.

The man started to grow uneasy. On the many occasions when he had dealt with Voldemort, anger was often times his dominant emotion. This wariness-cautiousness-, it was positively unheard of. "My Lord? Do you have second thoughts?" This seemed to get his attention. The man was slightly startled by his master's sudden ire.

"No! We will carry out this mission, and leave nothing to chance! No child shall stand in my way." He sighed, calming slightly.

Standing, he turned towards the fireplace. He remained silent for sometime, until Black began to grow uncomfortable. He couldn't quite understand his master's rather ominous mood, let alone what he was thinking at the moment, but it was troubling him to see Lord Voldemort behaving so reluctant.

Still with his back towards him, Voldemort spoke softly.

"If you had the ability, no matter the consequences, would you chose to live for ever?"

Completely surprised by the question, he didn't answer, but it seemed that Voldemort wasn't looking for any sort of response.

"What would be the point to being the most intelligent being, the most knowledgable and powerful of your kind, if at the end of it, all you had to look forward to was death." Turning to look at him, the Lord Voldemort started to caress one of his ring adorned fingers.

"Magic is a gift, to us, but it is wasted when one is just mortal."

"I-I suppose my lord, but we do not have such magic to become I-immortal.."

Nodding slightly, Lord Voldemort responded.

"Yess, that is...true.." He seemed to scrutinize him closely until Black bowed his head. Black couldn't quite understand this sudden turn in his master. It almost seemed like he was rather unsure of himself.

He looked up again when Voldemort moved, running one long finger over a black safe located on the desk. With a soft click, he observed that it then opened up for him. Inside, he pulled out a wooden black box which he placed gently on top of the desk.

"Come here Black. I require your assistance..." Scurrying to the desk, Black looked on curiously.

Lord Voldemort turned to the wooden box, opening it from small silver hinges. Peering inside, Black could see the interior was lined with a dark green velvet upon which laid a ceremonial dagger. The dagger itself was rather simple in design, but he could tell that it was very finely made. The blade was forged of a silver like metal, the hilt covered in a black scaly material- which on closer inspection- were of two entwined snakes holding up a crystal sphere the size of a marble. Inside held some green liquid he did not recognize.

"It iss beautiful is it not?"

"Y-yes my Lord!" Black looked up to the dark lord, whom carefully picked up the dagger, rubbing his finger and thumb along the blade's edge.

"I own little in terms of property or belongings. Even lesss of which I care for, but" he waved a hand to include his whole study, "the few items in my possession, that I truly value, are here closssest to me." He turned to Black, holding the dagger in one hand and his wand in the other.

"Thisss isss a family... Heirloom.." Voldemort smiled fondly at the dagger. "It isss priceless." He looked at Black closely. "Before we depart, I wish to make an oath. You have... proven yourself to me, and as a reward for your loyalty I wish to gift you with thisss." He held up the dagger, which appeared to gleam brightly from the firelight. Black looked on in surprise. He had never been rewarded before, especially with something that Lord Voldemort himself clearly cherished.

"You are most generous my lord! I am here to serve, and surely don't need such gifts- wonderful that they are-"

Voldemort cut him off, "Yess...yesss, but I do reward those that deserve it, and I wish thiss. Think of thiss as a more intimate bond between uss, brotherss. This dagger is very important to me, therefore I wish to have a brother share it. We must bond over it. Together. I have not rewarded any other follower- not even dear Bella, with such an honour. As much as she is loyal, she can be rather clumsy when it comes to taking care of one's belonginss"

Black looked from the dagger to his master, swallowing slightly.

"H-how could I deny such a gift; such an honour. Of course I will accept! W-what shall I do? You had mentioned an oath?"

Lord Voldemort smiled, his eyes flashing slightly, and brought his wand to the dagger. Black watched mesmerized, as nonverbally, a bright white light appeared from the end of the wand encasing the dagger in its light. Silently, he placed his wand in his holster and then brought the dagger to his now empty palm. He hissed a string of words, a soft glow appearing around the dagger before he sliced his palm open with the blade. Blood instantly began to well up lightly coating the dagger.

He smiled, turning to look at Black.

Knowing what he had to do, he held out his hand which his master grasped lightly. He held up the dagger, hissing, and the glow appeared again. Bringing the blade down, Black winced slightly at the pain he felt when his skin was cut open by the blade. The moment the blade was coated in his own blood, the soft glow grew brighter and changed to a crimson red. Lord Voldemort hissed once more before removing the dagger back to its cushioned box.

Black looked down at his palm, which he was surprised to see had healed leaving only a thin blackened scar.

Curious, he looked up to his master. "A blood oath my lord?"

"Yess. Something of the sort.. It is necessary for uss to be brotherss after all. Thiss is a reward, Black, are you not satisfied?" At Black's widened eyes he carried on, smirking. "Do not worry. Now," lord Voldemort strode forward, putting the black box inside the safe and placing it behind the painting. "we may go on. Nagini shall faithfully await for my return. No one is to enter here without my permission." The large snake coiled up, basking before the hearth of the fireplace.

Black stared on in wonder at the painting, absentmindedly rubbing the thin scar. Lord Voldemort paused, taking in his expression.

"It is safe here. You will have your chance to use it. Perhaps, one day. It is your reward after all." Black nodded and exited the study at Voldemort's behest.

The two men left, making their way down to the front entryway. Lord Voldemort turned, speaking once more. "I shall give you the honours of introducing us tonight, perhaps?" Black chuckled, offering an arm which Voldemort took lightly.

They apparated, appearing in a small clearing that appeared to be surrounded by shrubbery, though everything was cloaked in darkness. Black stepped forward, casting a silencing spell on his feet. "This way, my Lord. I shall lead you to the Potters which is just beyond this grove." With this, Lord Voldemort beckoned him onwards and the two silently made their way through the trees.

The man stopped, handing him the parchment. " 'The Potters residence is in The Grove, Godric's Hollow'." A soft shimmer appeared, and suddenly a two-storey thatched cottage appeared where once was but a small clearing. The two men progressed towards the door, where they could faintly hear the sound of music being played. Black knocked on the door, hearing a sudden stop in the music and heavy footsteps coming towards the door. He lowered his hood, and grasped his wand, waiting. As the door was opening a man's voice could be heard yelling out to someone else. "It's probably one of the order, Lily, don't worry. You just take Harry up to bed and let me deal with it." The door opened, and the man standing before them grinned.

"Sirius! We weren't expecting you! Not that you're not welcome he-" James Potter was blasted back, hit by a powerful stunner and crashed into the wall behind him, laying in a crumpled heap. Black stepped over the threshold, Lord Voldemort silently making his way in afterwards. Sirius stood close to the door, fiddling with his wand.

"I shall be but a moment, just wait here. If the man awakens kill him." Black nodded, leaning slightly against the wall. He watched his master make his way to the stairs, when a shrill voice could be heard. "James! Oh my God! What happened-!" Lily suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs holding her 15 month old son, Harry, close to her. At the sight of him, she just sobbed. "Sirius? What is going on? Who is-" she stopped, seeing Voldemort, and screamed clutching her son closer. "You will not take my son!" She fled, Sirius surmised, to one of the rooms. Voldemort ascended, and made his way swiftly around the corner.

He continued to stand in his spot, shifting around uncomfortably and fiddling with his wand. He felt a slight guilt but he knew that this was necessary. My Lord had said it was necessary! Besides, they weren't there for the parents it was just the child. Just Harry. He swallowed heavily. He was brought out of his revery at the sound of yelling.

"No! You will not take my son! Please! Let my son be! Please, kill me and let my son live!"

"Step aside, girl! I am not here for you." "Plea-" smash.

Black flinched when he heard the sound of a body hitting one of the walls, accompanied after by a continuation of the footsteps heading onwards. He could now also hear Harry wailing, which must be coming from the child's room. He was therefore then surprised to hear Lily's voice again.

"You will not have my baby!"

"I do not care of what you want. You are too late. Avada Kedavra."

Several things happened at once. The man could see a green glow wash down the wall of the staircase and he could hear the scream coming from Lily. The next moment he heard Voldemort yell and several loud thuds on the floor. Then everything was silent.

He held his breath, his body remaining frozen and unsure of what to do. All was still silent and Lord Voldemort had yet to reappear. He started to panic. What happened?

Making up his mind, Sirius made his way quickly up the stairs, heading towards the furthest room that was open. When he entered he was startled at what he saw. On the ground closest to him lay Lily. She was clearly dead. Her large green eyes were staring unseeingly, long red hair fanning out across the wooden floor; her wand hanging loosely in one hand whilst the other seemed to be clasped tightly. He moved past her, unable to look on any longer than necessary, and gasped loudly. There, lying by the crib, was Voldemort completely spread eagle on the ground. His eyes were staring, wide open, and with a look of utter surprise and fear written on his face. He was also dead. Black also noticed that his right hand, or what had been his right hand had seared black, while his wand was lying on the floor. All was silent in the room, and he was just going to look in on the child when he could hear a faint groan coming from downstairs. Startled, he quickly stooped down and pocketed his master's wand. He knew he needed to get away before the Aurors and order members showed up. With one last glance, he transformed into his animagus form and fled from the home.

He was reaching the line of trees when he could hear the pops signalling of incoming apparitions. Within the darkness of the trees, he apparated away.

XX

My master is dead!

Black staggered his way up the stairs of the manor the moment he felt his feet land on the floor of the entryway. The wards must all be gone, he surmised, as he would never have been able to apparate into the manor itself. As he made his way along the hallway to the study, he could feel the potion starting to wear off; his tall lean body starting to shrink in height to its original short roundness, and his thicker dark hair creeping back into his skull to its former short, blond, wispiness. Well, at least that plan worked he thought. It was actually his idea to Polyjuice as Sirius Black, ultimately hiding his own identity and framing his friend simultaneously. Before apparating to the manor previously, he had gone out and kidnapped a muggle, forcing him to drink Polyjuice containing his own hair and then killing him and leaving the charred body in his home. It wasn't the best of plans, he admitted, but it certainly could tie up loose ends. It mattered not now, at least, as he was technically dead to the world.

The man entered the study, glancing around briefly until he spotted the painting behind the desk. Rubbing his palm with his hand, he strode towards it knowing he had little time. He wasn't quite sure why he had come back, but he had felt almost compelled, as if someone had put a compulsion charm on him, to go back to the manor; he had a great need to go and retrieve the Dark Lord's dagger from his study. He thought it may have had to do with the bonding he did earlier, but either way here he was, with a strong urge to retrieve it.

He manoeuvred around the large oak desk, looking at the painting and unsure as what to do next. With a few muttered unlocking charms, he realized that no spell he knew would open it. He was beginning to contemplate blasting the thing off the wall when he heard a slithering sound, and upon looking down, he saw Nagini slide in, her large body making her way towards the desk.

"Nagini! You are still here!" The large snake was looking up at the man, its yellow eyes staring while its tongue flicked in and out.

"Look, we haven't much time. Something has happened, and L-Lord V-Voldemort .. H-he's d-dead." The snake hissed, baring its fangs. The man swallowed heavily. "Look, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I need to get the dagger from the safe," here he gestured at the painting frantically, "but I can't open the damn thing! I'm not sure what to d-" a hiss was heard and suddenly, with a soft click, the painting opened. The man just blinked, realizing it must have only opened to parseltongue. He hardly thought that Nagini could have understood what he was saying, as he certainly did not speak parseltongue, but perhaps she was a bit more intelligent than the average snake.

Extending his arm, he opened the door wider to take out the safe. Inside he also found three books, two of which were blank and one small book without a title but on further inspection proved to be written in his master's writing; two glass bottles- one of which contained a pearly white liquid whilst the other contained what he gathered was blood. The moment his hand came in contact with the safe's handle the door sprung open allowing him to take out the black box. He collected all the items from behind the painting and carefully placed them in his warded bag, which he shrunk and placed in his pocket.

He took one last glance around the room before leaving. He knew he had very little time, in case the Aurors were to arrive. Since the wards were all down that would mean anyone could have access to the manor. He exited the house not really caring as to the location of the snake, and completely ignoring the rest of his master's possessions. He had collected what he needed, and was now satisfied he could leave.

With one last glance, he apparated away.

xxx

That same night

A tall ancient looking man, bedecked in colourful robes of deep indigo with silver thread, a long flowing white beard and matching indigo hat, made his way swiftly up the stairs of the cottage. He entered the small room, stopping at the sight before him.

A young man was sitting on the floor, holding the body of a young woman tightly to his chest. He was caressing her long auburn hair, while sobbing loudly. 'Lily?!' Was all he could get out. The old man seemed to age considerably more so, and he ventured slowly in, taking in the sight of a second body lying closer towards the crib. Voldemort. And he was dead. He stooped down, staring into the face of the man who was feared by so many. He noticed quickly the searing of Voldemort's right hand, and what appeared as scorch marks burned into the floor.He glanced around, looking for Voldemort's wand or anything else that may have been a part of Voldemort's belongings until he became aware of crying coming from the crib. With a look of sheer amazement and shock, he stood and came upon the small child that lay, crying with green eyes staring widely up at him.

On his forehead, above his left eyebrow, was a thin jagged scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

'Harry!' Was all the man could get out, as he was still in considerable shock at what had transpired that night.

"Dumbledore..." A choked voice called. Dumbledore turned around, looking at the young man. '"James, Harry is alive. I am terribly sorry about Lily.'" James, still with tears on his face, just nodded. Dumbledore observed James to be holding something scrunched in his hand; stretching out his boney hand, he glanced at it curiously. "May I?" James nodded to him, handing him a piece of wrinkled parchment. On closer inspection he could see that it was smeared with reddish brown ink. Blood, he realized.

James had gently placed Lily back onto the floor, closing her eyes softly. Kissing her forehead, he then stood up and made his way to the crib to pick up his crying son. Rocking him gently in his arms, he spoke softly to him, trying to console him and put him back to sleep. As he began to move towards the door, James stopped partway through the threshold. "I-it was Sirius A-Albus... H-he betrayed us...he brought HIM here.. And they killed Lily.." He shuddered, tightening his hold on Harry whom had begun fidgeting, silently trying to be brought back to his mother. Dumbledore watched in great sorrow as James tried to distract his son. "N-no Harry. It's ok son. S-she-" he choked out, and unable to finish, he strode through the door leaving the room never to return again. Dumbledore starred on in shock at this pronouncement. He grew saddened, trying to think as to how such a man could do such a terrible thing to his own best friend. His own brother!

He was momentarily distracted when a large bull patronus entered through the wall and stood before him, pawing the ground silently. Recognizing it as Moody's, he waited for the message he was to receive.

Albus. The Order has reconvened at headquarters. Several unaccounted for. We await your commands. The bull gave one last silent snort before dissipating.

Knowing he would have to leave soon, he glanced down at the body of Voldemort, appearing momentarily indecisive. "He is dead..." He muttered to himself, before he waved his wand and conjured a small bottle. He knelt down, drawing out some blood from the crook of Voldemort's elbow. Stoppering the bottle, he labeled it and put it in his pocket. Turning to Lily, he hesitated.

He was divided, as he was unsure on whether he could do this. On whether he should do this. He needed to know what had happened tonight, as two were dead, while young Harry clearly remained alive. Sighing, 'I am sorry Lily. Please, forgive me.', he conjured another bottle and drew some of her blood as well. This he too stoppered, labeled, and put into his pocket.

Standing, he looked to Voldemort again, quickly creating a portkey to send it to the ministry to be dealt with. With Lily, he put a protection ward on her and levitated her to the bed. After that, he left the room.

The ministry and James will handle the body of Lily, which would need to be dealt with soon. As Dumbledore descended the steps, he couldn't help but feel some happiness out of all of this. Voldemort was dead. All at the hands of this mysterious Harry Potter. And a prophecy. Dumbledore smiled. It was truly astounding. His reign was over, and the wizarding world could now celebrate his demise and live in peace. For how long, he did not know, but for now, Yes, he thought, they had much to celebrate.

xx

"Dumbledore!" The bearded man turned, his robes billowing slightly. His eyes narrowed when he took in the sight of the head Auror striding towards him.

"Chief Auror Fellows... I am about to leave for the ministry. The minister needs to be informed on what has happened here tonight."

"Yes, yes I am aware of that. However, I need wizards here to conduct a thorough investigation of the premises. All our other Aurors are out currently scouring the homes of the death eater ilc or trying to locate their main headquarters. I need you to search the interior for anything of interest."

Dumbledore looked on with his piercing blue eyes, then finally he stepped forward and reentered the cottage where he encountered the few other Aurors running detection spells over all the surfaces. Acknowledging them with a small wave, he headed up the narrow stairs to the second floor having decided it would be best to start where all the action had occurred.

Inside the small room he encountered a young Auror Shacklebolt.

"Oh Dumbledore, you're back? I thought you were heading to headquarters?"

Dumbledore eyed the young man before casting a silencing spell at the door.

"I was, but unfortunately the chief Auror came upon me before I could apparate out. I had received a patronus only just earlier that the order were convening at headquarters. Auror Fellows asked me to help investigate the premises, as he appeared to be short staff."

Kingsley just nodded, "After they removed the body to the ministry, only a few remained. The rest have gone off to investigate the alarm raised by Augusta, and of a suspicious house fire out in Lionshead."

Dumbledore nodded, before heading further into the room.

"Have you found anything of interest Kingsley?"

"No, nothing that hasn't already been seen by you or from the other Aurors who've been through here." Kingsley grimaced, eyes focusing on the empty crib. "Poor James; poor Harry! Can't believe what happened... " he mumbled off, turning to go and head out of the room. "I'm going to check out the other two rooms again. Call if you need me!"

Dumbledore stood, surveying the room. He took in the small bin of plush toys obviously belonging to the young child, and the now vacant bed where Lily's body had been removed from. Remus Lupin had come to collect her, as James had been too inconsolable and said he had to stay with Harry.

He turned, taking in the sight of the scorch marks left behind on the floor by the crib. Walking forward he knelt down running his hand along the ridges left behind by the burn. Lighting his wand, he let the beam fall upon the wooden floor allowing him to see with better clarity. He could see that the scorch marks had continued on to underneath the crib, though they had diminished in severity, which could explain his not noticing them before. He was just crouching down to get better wand access from under the crib when the light of his wand had illuminated something shiny hidden near the back. Waving the wand back in its general direction he could see a small object laying there, glinting under the wand's light. Deciding quickly, he summoned it silently where it landed into the palm of his hand.

It was a ring.

On closer inspection he realized it was a heavy, ornately carved ring, made of silver, with a large black stone being held in the maws of what appeared to be a wolf. Under the stone was carved the letter G, and all along the band were carved little runes of which he could not discern. He had the strangest feeling he recognized it from somewhere, but as to whom or where, that currently alluded him.

Staring at the ring curiously, he was startled when he heard Kinglsey asking if he was finished searching the room. Turning, he secretly pocketed the ring before Kingsley entered the room exclaiming he believes that they could move on from the top floor. The two men left, informing the chief Auror that the top floor had been investigated thoroughly and that they would leave for the ministry. As they apparated away, Dumbledore was still thinking heavily on the ring that now resided in his pocket.

xx