Hello everyone! I'm back at long last! I know, I know its been so long but things have gotten so hectic and I was completely caught up on TBAW.

Thanks to everyone who has been so patient. I dont know how fast this story will be coming along, I just wanted to get the first chap up after such an embarressingly long wait.

As you all know, this is the sequel to "The Secret" which, the first few chapters, I find rather embarressing with all of the gramatical mistakes so I'm trying to fix that.

And so I finally present the long awaited sequel:

The Remnant

Chapter one- Aftermath

Damien opened his eyes and blinked the blurriness from them. Despite having been asleep for the past five hours, he felt wide-awake, as if he had only blinked instead of waking up. Slowly he sat up, staring into the glowing orange embers in the fireplace.

The dungeons were warm, though not warm enough to travel around in a short-sleeved shirt. He carefully wrapped the forest green velvet blanket around himself like a coat and stood up, waiting for exhaustion to seize him at being up so early. A short glance at the clock confirmed his guess of the time. It was only three in the morning, and he had classes the next day. Damien briefly wondered if he'd be able to operate on the few hours of sleep, or if his father would notice the bags under his eyes.

Most likely, the man would. His father had been rather protective of him over the past few weeks.

Damien shivered and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, mentally wondering why it was so damn cold for the end of March. He hesitated, before tiptoeing silently to the door of his father's rooms. He raised a hand to knock, before deciding otherwise. He didn't want to disturb the man over his inability to shove his stay at Azkaban out of his dreams.

As he turned to lie back down on the couch, he remembered his father's words, telling Damien to always come to him if he needed something. Damien sighed, and shifted the large blanket. It wasn't that he needed his father; he would just appreciate another's (a parent's) company after another nightmare.

Damien felt a shiver of nervousness run up his spine as he knocked softly on his father's door. When no one answered, he wrapped harder, before awkwardly turning the doorknob when, again, his father failed to answer.

A flutter of worry rose in Damien's stomach. What if someone had snuck into his father's room? What if he was in pain? His worries only fueled him to slowly creak the door open a slither just to peek inside.

The bed was unmade, looking as if someone had had a rough night in it. The sheets were askew, the pillows scattered, and the blankets bunched at the foot and drooping off the edge, but his father was nowhere in sight.

Damien swallowed heavily as the small flutter of worry morphed into all out terror. He flung the door open and scanned the room for any sign of a struggle. His heart pounded as he tore from the room, abandoning his blanket on the floor, as he checked the empty bathroom. Surely he was overreacting. No one could just sneak into Hogwarts! Especially not a Death Eater.

His mind unwillingly flashed back to Quirrel and Barty Crouch jr.

"Dad!" he called igniting the torches in the kitchen. "Dad…" His voice caught and he felt a numb sensation creeping over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was taunting him that his father was dead. Dead like his mother; dead, like Sirius; dead, like Remus. Damien's heart stung at the thought of the recently deceased werewolf, the last of the infamous Marauders….

He sank to his knees and felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. What was he supposed to do? Floo Dumbledore? Was there time? Every minute he wasted his father could be slowly going insane, or in pain…

"Damien?" His father's voice sounded so far away, though it was like music to his ears.

Severus paled and hurried over to his son, dropping down beside him and gripping each shoulder.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asked urgently, checking the boy for any injuries.

Damien stared up at him with unseeing eyes. "You…you're okay….you're not dead…"

Severus looked bemused. "Of course I'm not dead, you silly boy," he whispered affectionately, feeling relief seep into his veins. He pulled Damien to his chest and carefully helped the shaking boy up, steering him to the couch.

"Where did you go?" Damien asked weakly, staring up at him as if he were his savior.

"I was just working in my private labs," Severus answered softly, walking over to pick up the fallen blanket beside his bedroom door. He noticed Damien's eyes following every move he made. He spread the blanket over the boy's shivering body. "I told you I might be there if I couldn't sleep."

Damien said nothing. He simply stared up at him with wide eyes, his blanket clutched tightly to his body and Severus was struck suddenly with how young Damien really was.

"I take it you couldn't sleep either?" Severus asked and Damien wordlessly shook his head in negative.

Severus sighed and knelt beside the couch. "Why didn't you look in my labs?" he asked softly, shaking his head. "You don't think I'd ever leave you, do you?" It was a question he'd been wondering ever since the Azkaban-incident. Lately, Damien had been far too clingy to him then what was normal for a sixteen year-old teenager and though Severus enjoyed the extra time spent with his son (he could easily keep an eye on him), he was beginning to worry.

"No," Damien whispered in a small voice. "I just….didn't think."

Severus observed the boy's pale and shaken expression. He recalled the first words Damien had said to him about him 'not being dead.' Suddenly, it began to make sense as he finally connected Damien's recent clinginess to Remus Lupin's death a few weeks ago.

"I'm not going to die, Damien," he told his son gently.

Damien looked up at him through a curtain of raven hair. "What does it mean if you say that?" he asked. "It wasn't as if Sirius and Remus and everyone else who died for me said that they planned to."

Severus stared at him. "Damien, their deaths were not your fault. They did not plan to die."

"But they did," Damien said resolutely. "They died for me, because of me."

"It was not your fault," Severus whispered, squeezing the boy's arm as if to prove his point. "If anyone is to blame then it is most certainly Bellatrix Lestrange."

Damien's eyes darkened frighteningly at the name. "Yes," he said, his voice suddenly unemotional. "She is to blame for everything."

Severus started at the sudden change of his son's demeanor. He stood up, eyeing Damien with a guarded expression. "I'll make some tea," he said quickly before entering the kitchen, pondering on the darkness that shadowed Damien's eyes at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange. Damien had gone from scared and raw to indifferent and cold, and yet there had been something more, a sort of massive fury that he had so carefully hidden from any Legilimens. He felt a shiver go down his spine.

Damien was sitting up, staring at the now lively fireplace as if hypnotized. Severus cleared his throat and set the two steaming cups on the table. Damien automatically picked up the cup but didn't drink it. He turned his gaze to the steam that was steadily rising from the amber liquid and wrapped both hands around it, savoring the warmth.

There was an uncomfortable silence for the first couple moments. Severus hated it. He hadn't felt this awkward around Damien since the first few weeks after discovering Lily's secret, and it felt odd to not feel the warmth that had once radiated from his son.

Now, he felt almost cautious to be around the boy, as if saying the wrong thing would break him mentally. Yes, something had definitely changed about Damien. He didn't know if it was the short time the boy had spent in Azkaban or perhaps the loss of yet another friend, Remus Lupin, that had affected Damien so much, but he didn't like this new Damien.

It was as if he had a split personality going three different ways. There would be moments when Damien would act normal, and almost be his old self again, and then there was this young, open, and vulnerable Damien who would cling to anyone noticeably. Finally, there was the persona that frightened Severus the most: the cold, indifferent Damien that Severus had just witnessed for the third time in the last few weeks. Damien's different facades were both worrisome and alarming.

Severus felt a twinge of sadness in his heart, knowing that it would probably be a long while before Damien was back to normal again, if that ever was to happen.

"Do you have nightmares to?" Damien asked finally, staring up at him solemnly.

Severus stared into his son's eyes before shifting his gaze to his tea. "Every night," he admitted, reasoning with himself that there was no shame in having nightmares.

Damien cocked his head to the side. "What about?"

He smiled wryly at his son's question. "I've always had nightmares from my role as a Death Eater." He paused to take a long drink from his tea, the warm liquid soothing his throat. "I suppose they're about you."

Damien frowned. "Me? Why me?"

"I dream that you are in Voldemort's clutches again," Severus said, shuddering at the thought. "That you are being hurt or tortured." He felt a bit embarrassed about sharing his worst fear with his son, but he knew that it would encourage Damien to tell him about his own dreams.

Damien looked down at his full teacup. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I have nightmares every night too," he said when Severus opened his mouth to counter his apology. "About Remus and Sirius." He frowned staring dully at the cup. "About Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and you too. Have them all the time," he sounded vulnerable again.

Severus set his empty cup down. "Why don't you ever tell me?"

Damien smiled faintly. "Tell you what? That I have nightmares? What good will it do besides making you even more worried then you already are?"

Severus hated to admit that the boy had a bit of a point, but refused to admit it. "It will help you deal with them better, Damien."

Damien shrugged. "I'm used to them," he said softly, staring again into the fireplace.

Severus hesitated, watching as the flames danced in the fireplace in a hypnotic rhythm. Finally, he sighed and stood.

"This has been going on far too long," he told the boy.

Damien looked up at him, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Severus answered quietly. "We had this exact conversation only a few days after you got out of Azkaban Damien, and I can only see you getting worse."

Damien's eyes flashed. "Worse with what?" he asked coldly. "Just because I'm not throwing myself into your arms, sobbing like a child doesn't mean-"

"This isn't about that!" Severus barked, folding his arms. "This is about you and how little time you spend with your friends, how little time you spend being a normal teenager!"

Damien sneered. "Well jeez, Dad, I wonder why that is?" he asked in mock-curiosity, pasting an innocent look on his face for a moment before scowling again. "Maybe because I've never been a normal teenager?"

"Do not take that tone with me!" Severus snapped. "You act as if I'm sentencing you to death, Damien. All I want you to do is spend more time enjoying this moment of peace as best you can instead of barricading yourself in the library reading for hours on end!"

"If you haven't realized, I haven't had a 'moment of peace' as you so call it since I was fourteen," Damien replied, his voice calmer, though no less defiant.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Do not act as if you know what it is like to be in a real war, Damien, because you have no idea." He drew himself up to full height. "You don't know what its like for every single person you love to be lying on the ground, dead, while you are trying to survive. Enjoy this time that you can spend with your friends while you are still in Hogwarts. You may not think of them as peaceful times but once you graduate, you will realize just how wonderful they really are."

Damien stood up, glaring at him. "I think I'll leave now," he stated icily, moving to the fireplace.

"And where are you going to go at three in the morning?" Severus asked, folding his arms again.

"To people who actually want me," Damien shot back, grabbing some floo powder from the ornamented pot Severus kept on the mantle. "And if you haven't forgot, I do know what its like to see everyone around you dying. I see it every night in my dreams," he said scornfully, before throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames and calling, "Gryffindor common room!"

Severus watched Damien disappear into the flames before let out a frustrated mix between a sigh and a yell. He slumped on the couch Damien had been sleeping on and massaged his eyes.

"Merlin this is going to be a bad day…."

&&&&&&&&&&&

"You could have come up to the dorms, you know," Ron said, peering over Damien's face.

Damien groaned and buried his face into a pillow on one of the common room couches. His back screamed in protest and he winced, reaching to massage it.

"Wha' time is i'?" he asked through a yawn, finally sitting up. He noticed, with amusement that Ron looked rather grouchy and besides Hermione and Ginny, he was the only other one up.

"Six," Ron snipped, sounding thoroughly disgruntled.

"Why'd you get up so early?"

"As it probably comes as no surprise to you, Ronald has yet to finish his Transfiguration essay," Hermione answered dominantly.

Damien chuckled. "We've had five days to do it, mate," he reminded, grinning as Ron glared at him.

"Thanks a lot," the redhead muttered, looking sullen. He noticed Damien wincing as he stretched. "Why didn't you sleep in the dorm? Your bed is still there, you know."

Damien shrugged. "Didn't think of it."

"Of course, you could have always slept in my dorm if you didn't want to sleep in the boy's dormitory," Ginny said, smirking.

"Ginny!"

Ron made a face, staring at his younger sister as if he'd never suspected her of such a thought.

Damien returned her smirk. "I'll take that into account next time I want to come."

Ron sputtered, darting glances between his best friend and sister as if deciding exactly who was at fault.

Ginny laughed, reaching over to massage her brother's shoulders. "Relax, Ron, we're only joking, right Damien?" She winked at him.

Ron turned a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly before snapping at Ron to finish his essay.

&&&&&&&&&&&

the Great Hall was filled with the usual chatter when they arrived. Ron, having just completed his Transfiguration essay, was looking thoroughly disgusted at the fact that he had just spent an hour writing his essay and he didn't even get time to relax before the class.

"Well next time you should plan your time more wisely!" Hermione snapped as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Why don't you use the homework planner I got for you last year?" she said, brightening.

"Er…" Ron glanced pleadingly at Damien. "I…er…already used it all up."

Hermione looked doubtful. "I don't remember you-"

"Oh, I did," Ron said loudly. "Loads…loads of times."

"Okay," Hermione said looking a little proud. "Well, I'm sure Damien will let you borrow his if he isn't using it."

Damien choked on his food. He managed just in time to not look guilty.

"My uncle sort of…burned it over the summer, Hermione," he murmured. "Sorry."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said, looking deflated.

In truth, he had finally carried out with his plan of chucking the thing in the common room fire at the end of his fifth year. Well, at least he'd told her half the truth….

"So, what's on the menu today?" Ron asked cheerfully.

"Transfiguration," Damien said in a bored voice. "Followed by Potions." He winced at the thought of facing his father after his rather immature temper tantrum.

"Then there's Defense," Hermione continued, and Damien closed his eyes briefly, feeling the now familiar sting in his heart at the thought of his deceased surrogate godfather.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, looking at him in concern.

Damien forced a smile and shrugged. "Fine."

Ron and Hermione exchanged uncertain looks, but returned to their breakfast wordlessly.

From beside Damien, Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.

A/N- Tell me what you thought...

Bye Bye!

-Tia Evans