Hello there! I've just watched Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald and I find myself in the mood to write some Harry Potter stories that may or may not be about Harry Potter. I don't know what I'm going to be writing in the coming days, but I will be writing stories as I feel the ideas forming in my head.

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel about what I've written and I'll see you all in the next chapter/story.

Bye~

Prologue

The night wet and windy, two children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square, and the shop windows covered in paper spiders, all the tawdry Muggle trappings of a world in which they did not believe.

And they glided along, that sense of purpose and power and rightness in him that he always knew on these occasions. Not anger, that was for weaker souls than he, but triumph. Yes, he had waited for this. He had hoped for it.

"Nice costume, mister!"

They saw as the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw the fear cloud his painted face: Then the child turned and ran away. Beneath the robe he fingered the handle of his wand. One simple movement and the child would never reach his mother.

But unnecessary, quite unnecessary…

Along a new and darker street he and his most loyal follower moved, and now their destination was in sight at last, the Fidelius Charm broken, though the Potters did not know it yet. And they made less noise than the dead leaves slithering along the pavement as the two drew level with the dark hedge and stared over it.

The boy's parents had not drawn the curtains; he saw them quite clearly in their little sitting room, the tall black-haired man in his glasses, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the small black-haired boy in his blue pajamas. The child was laughing and trying to catch the smoke, to grab it in his small fist.

A door opened and the mother entered, saying words neither could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face. Now the father scooped up the son and handed him to the mother. He threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched, yawning.

The gate creaked a little as he pushed it open, but James Potter did not hear. His white hand pulled out the wand beneath his cloak and pointed it at the door, which burst open. The woman standing close behind also pulled her wand, eager to finish the task at hand.

Crossing the threshold as James came sprinting into the hall, he missed the woman behind him sharing a moment with the man. A brief, seemingly inconsequential, moment that sent James through an array of emotions in the span of a single second: Confusion, betrayal, and then an intense anger.

It was easy, too easy, the man thought. The fool hadn't even picked up his wand.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold them off!"

Hold him off, without a wand in his hand!? He laughed, amused at the very idea, before raising his wand at the defenseless man.

"Avada Ked-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightning rods, and James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut.

It was not the cloaked man who had killed him, however. Rather, it was the woman who had made it a point to stay close to his side the entire night. At his silent demand for an explanation, she gave out an aggravated grunt.

"I knew James and Lily Potter through Severus. After all the suffering he and that Mudblood whore of his put him through, my Lord, I think I had every right to take his worthless life…in your name, of course." Her tone of voice left no room for argument, but still held a respectful tone towards the cloaked man.

The man nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, my dear Adeline. I hope you are…ah, satisfied with his end." He had a soothing voice that betrayed none of his actual feeling on the matter. Whether he felt anger at her presumptuous actions or delight at her unwavering loyalty, one couldn't tell.

He could hear the woman crying out in despair from the upper floor, trapped, but as long as she was sensible, she, at least, had nothing to fear. He and his servant climbed the steps, listening with faint amusement to her attempts to barricade herself in. She had no wand upon her either. How stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their safety lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for moments.

He forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand and there she stood, the child in her arms. At the sight of him, she dropped her son into the crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl. Stand aside, now!"

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"

"This is my last warning…"

"Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy. Not Harry! Not Harry! Please! I'll do anything…"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" He could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all.

During the exchange, Adeline watched their movements intently. She would need to know exactly how this would play out if she had any chance of getting it right the first time.

In Lily's last moments, her green eyes, much like James' had done, locked onto Adeline's brown ones. The same range of emotions from before could be seen; especially the betrayal. Except, rather than her feeling the same intense anger James had felt towards the woman, she stared at Adeline with what looked to be…regret.

The look cut deeper than any blade or spell, and silent tears fell as the words left the cloaked man's lips.

The green light flashed around the room and she dropped like her husband. The child had not cried all this time: He could stand, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest. Perhaps thinking that it was his father who hid beneath the cloak, making more pretty lights, and his mother would pop up any moment, laughing.

Adeline reached into her coat and carefully pulled out a golden pocket watch with intricate runes carved into it. Aesthetically captivating, to her, beyond mere words. It was something Adeline had often spent hours at a time simply staring at.

He pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face: He wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The child began to cry: It had seen that he was not James. He did not like it crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage…

She placed her wand back in its holster, mentally and physically bracing herself for what was to come. It wasn't supposed to hurt or even be uncomfortable in the slightest, according to the Unspeakable she had stolen it from, but the ministry instructors had said the same thing about Apparating and Adeline ended up badly splinching herself on the very first try.

So, she wouldn't hold her breath on that being true.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Using her free hand, Adeline turned the pocket watch's crown to the right a couple of times, hesitated for a brief moment as she once more stared into the lifeless eyes of Lily Potter, and then firmly pressed down with her thumb.

The world around her began to slow to a stop before rewinding itself with increasing speed. In her last moments as a part of the original timeline, Adeline Prince watched as Lord Voldemort, a Dark Lord said to rival even Grindelwald himself, suffered an unexpected and very explosive rebound and…

…died.