Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Chapter One is up! I think I will start working on the second chapter, and try to get that up soon. Please review!

P.S. I've just edited this chapter... I found out that I was giving you guys WAY too much info!

8/9/09: I've edited this chapter again, so you might want to re-read it!

Prologue

January, 1981

"M… My Lord…"

"What is it, Avery?" the Dark Lord Voldemort snapped. He was planning where the next raid would be when his elite Death Eaters got back from the current one.

"Th…they're dead…all dead…" Avery stuttered, groveling on the floor.

"WHO'S DEAD?" Roared Voldemort impatiently, sending the man on the floor in a series of squeaks. The Dark Lord was not a patient man. He thought Avery, out of all people should know that, but obviously his memory needed a brief refresher.

"Crucio," Voldemort hissed, "Perhaps your tongue is a little looser now?" He asked snidely.

"Forgive me, forgive me, great master! I…I.. The raid! It-it was a failure!" stuttered Avery, knowing he was going to receive another Cruciatus Cruse for being the bearer of bad news.

"CRUCIO!" Voldemort screamed furiously. "Would you care to explain to me how my best regimen fell to the Order of the Chicken?!"

"W-well, we were outnumbered five to one...the male Vixen was facing Dumbledore, Moody, Shaklebolt, McGonagall, and Fletcher all at once, while Vixen fought valliantly against Flitwick, Tonks, Potter, the traitorous Black and Lupin. It seemed the Order and the Aurors had joined forces against us, because I've never seen so many in one battle," Avery flinched.

"Any Survivors? Bring them here!"

"M-my l-l-lord I am the only one… Dumbledore spared me so I could bring you the news. And it's true. They're all dead, even the Vixens. I saw them die by Dumbledore's own hand after a long torture session." Avery babbled, he was definitely feeling the aftereffects of the Cuciatus Curse, and if it weren't so painful, he would be enthralled with the amount of power his lord used.

Lord Voldemort had never felt so many emotions crashing down on him. There was the usual hatred and anger, but there were also forgien emotions: sorrow, grief, and remorse. His best lieutenants were dead, and they were the only people who he actually cared about (even if he wasn't very good at showing it).

"GET OUT, AVERY! AND NOTIFY THAT TODAY'S MEETINGS ARE CANCELLED! IF I FIND ANYONE BOTHERING ME, I WILL KILL THEM IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE!" yelled Voldemort, already feeling a migraine coming up.

Avery scurried out of the room, fearing his master's wrath and his own life.

Voldemort sighed and turned around. Anyone watching would have noticed a lone tear stray from the Dark Lord's handsome face. With a pop, he apparated wordlessly to the now deserted Vixen Manor, in search of this now orphaned Vixen.

October 31st 1981

Voldemort barely blinked as his own jet of green light bounced off the baby boy and smacked him in the chest. His last thoughts were: What will happen to my baby? Will she live? Will I ever see her again? Forgive me, young one, for leaving you. With due luck, perhaps Nagini will find you and and take care of you. Suprisingly, he actually had grown fond of the little Vixen girl, possibly because she reminded him of himself when he was little.

The baby girl in his arms dropped and cried painfully on the floor. The little boy clutched his forehead and cried also. After awhile, they looked at each other.

Emerald green eyes and sapphire blue eyes locked. The little girl waved a little, the boy waved back.

Suddenly the boy found himself being lifted by a large figure they hadn't noticed come into the room. As the man was going to leave, the boy pointed to the floor and gurgled, catching the attention of the big man.

Later

"Oh, Albus, what are we going to do? Lily and James dead, Harry an orphan, and…" a wrinkled old woman asked an even older old man, but they were cut off with the sound of a roaring motorcycle that just landed.

"Hagrid," the old man greeted the big man, "Have you brought the child?"

"Yes, professor…but I found another one in the house too," Hagrid said, trying to wipe a stray tear, but not succeeding because his hands were full with two sleeping babies.

"Albus? Is that girl…?" Minevra McGonagall asked, shocked.

"Yes, I'm afraid she is. Unfortunately, she is not dead as we believed she would be," Dumbledore replied frowning deeply, "Hagrid, you said she was found in the Dark lord's robes?"

"Yeah, it was kind of weird. Didn't know ol' You-Know-Who could be the father type."

"What does this mean?" McGonagall asked quietly, now looking the baby in fear.

Dumbledore sighed. Knowing who she was, this child would be immensely powerful when she grew up. She could be another Tom Riddle, or she could be an Albus Dumbledore. If he left the child at an orphanage, no doubt one of the Dark's supporters would find her, but there was a chance a Light supporter could also. The Dark supporter would probably tell her about her true heritage and spoil her to death, but the Light supporter might torture her and drive her into the darkness, vowing revenge. What he wanted was a little, dispensible pawn that destroyed HIS enemies. Hmmm. Maybe if she viewed Dumbledore as her savior and Voldemort as her enemy, had friends of the Light, and was NOT sorted in Slytherin. That might just work...

"Give me the child," Dumbledore said, a plan already formed in his mind, "I will be incharge of her." With a swish of his wand, the adorable child turned into a regular looking one that looked nothing special. Dumbledore smirked. There was not going to be a Dark Lady, there was going to be a new Light Champion, though.

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Author's Note: Well, I hoped you liked chapter one! Reviews are encouraged! Jeesh, it took me forever to get that stupid line to work.