A/N: I am currently editing AMG (I'm annoyed at how choppy this chapter in particular is). This is not the last edit of this chapter, as everything from James' perspective onwards is going into another chapter. I just haven't written that one yet. Thankies,
Erika.

Chapter 1

Guess Who

3 years later

The first day back of Colby's fifth year. The Great Hall was more packed that morning than it would be at any other point that term, as students were given their timetables. He was bored, the start of his OWLs year not meaning much to him, as he was confident he could have taken the NEWTs at this stage without a problem. His father had suggested training with Snape to look at getting a potions mastery, but he has declined. Potions was more his sister's thing - his main interests were spell creation, martial magic and dark arts. None of which Hogwarts taught, to his chagrin - even the restricted section of the library was disappointing.

He sighed, disregarding his timetable as he picked at a muffin. Only two years and he could be out of here. That said, some of the company was good. On the other hand, most of it was terrible.

"Well isn't that fantastic, double Defence with Potter and the Gryffindors first thing on a Monday," Draco drawled from beside him, looking up from his timetable. "This is why we get tutoring during the summer. I don't know why they still call it defence."

"Well I bet they'd never get away with a class called "Target Practice on Slytherins"," Ron said around a piece of toast and a few chunks of sausage. Draco grimaced.

"You know that you could at least finish your mouthful before you speak. Or perhaps shove less in – the food isn't going anywhere." Draco said. "But no, they wouldn't. I sure that the insane man justifies it as believing if we die then there's fewer death eaters so the Gryffindors are defended, and on our side we're literally having to learn to defend ourselves every lesson."

"If you think about it, we are getting more out of it," Colby said, speaking up and trying to sound positive despite the urge to curse the DADA teacher. The urge wasn't due to the class, but due to the man himself – he'd hated James Potter even before he'd first seen him. "We're learning defence and they're just learning static target practice. The kind of target practice we got on those practice dummies when we were four, Dray." Draco grumbled, focusing back on his timetable while Colby nodded at Neville as he noticed...whom he guessed he could consider his best friend - if people like him had friends - enter the hall.

He looked back to his own bench, amused, as his sister collapsed next to Theodore Nott. "Nice to see you're ready for the day, sis."

Maisie looked up and glared. "You know how it goes. Old Dumbles is staring again by the way. Oh, and that Zabini guy you wanted me to look at? Lost cause, Cole. He's fallen for a mudblood in Ravenclaw."

"When is he not staring? And really? Damn, I thought Zabini had potential, the stupid blood traitor." Maisie snorted and slumped back down on the table, not responding to anything else except to give a slight nod as Snape put her timetable on the table. Draco immediately grabbed it.

"Can we swap timetables for the morning? You have potions with the Ravenclaws," Draco said.

"Lovely, potions with Loony Lovegood," Ginny sang sarcastically, sitting down next to Draco and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Sounds like fun," Draco said, passing back Maisie's timetable.

"It is, so long as you're not paired with her. Her mum might have been good with potions, but her? No way," Ginny said. She turned towards Maisie. "Maisie..."

Maisie grinned. "What, Ginevra? Hmm... no I wont give you something extra to put in your summer potions essay. Though trust me, I sympathise - I know it's hard for you to get hold of proper reading material at your house," she said, before raising an eyebrow. "Though I also know that Draco does keep inviting you over."

Ginny blushed, holding in a small giggle, before her face fell. "You know my parents will never let me go," she said bitterly.

"Then lie," Maisie said with a shrug.

"Our parents know we're in Slytherin and don't think we know anyone outside it. Even though we do have friends in other houses, our parents wont let us go out. They don't trust us. George gets to go out in the summer, that's it," Ron grumbled, luckily without the sideshow of a mouthful of ground up food this time.

"Anyway, I don't need anything for my essay, your birthday present was very useful thank-you. I was going to ask if you'd pair up with me this year..." Ginny said.

"So ask." Ginny rolled her eyes and complied.

"Maisie, will you pair up with me for potions this year?" she asked.

"Hmm..." Maisie mused with a smirk. Ginny raised an eyebrow

"You know the Carrow twins will pair up, and Acantha turned her back and ran off to go live with the Longbottoms over the summer. She's been attached to Longbottom since and is practically a social pariah in Slytherin this year. Do you really want to pair up with her again?" Maisie shuddered. Ginny glanced down the table in pity at Theodore, who was scowling at the thought of his disowned sister.

"Okay okay, I'll pair up with you, just pass me a bagel," Maisie said with a scowl.

Later on that night in a small village in the South-East of England, a woman was sat, curled up on a loveseat upholstered in a dark green velvet with a letter in her hand. A man sat at a nearby desk, looking through papers and occassionally making notes with his quill. It would have been a normal scene in a normal wizarding home. Except the house was more of a manor and the man at the table had the most interesting scarlet irises. The woman scowled at the parchment in her hand.

"Tom, would you please do something about that nutter?" the woman asked, looking up from the letter in her hand. To those who didn't know her the tone might've sounded indifferent, as it might have to those who used to know her - it was a trait she'd cultivated during her years in hiding. But he husband knew differently, picking up on the rage and hints of fear. "He's at it again."

"Which one?" he asked, not glancing up from the raid plans for next week. It could have been a long list of people: Dumbledore, Moody, Augusta Longbottom, Peter Pettigrew...

"Potter," she spat. Or him - after all she did have a good reason to hate the man more than most. Perhaps more than anyone. "He's now decided it would be fun to practice swordsmanship on our son."

Voldemort's head shot up. "He's doing what!?" he snarled. Using his son as a spell target had been bad enough, but at least Blake had always been able to defend himself with his own wand. Being attacked with a sword was different - he didn't even know if Blake was allowed his own sword, without which...

He stood, leaving the plans abandoned on the mahogany desk to sit next to his wife on the love-seat. He slid his arms around her and squeezed softly. "He'll be gone soon, I promise. But you know the old man will fight to keep him and it'll take a while. I'll see what I can do to get an "independent" supervisor into the class in the meantime, which should stop the use of Slytherins as target dummies at least."

The woman nodded, leaning into the hug and feeling the tense feeling somewhat leak away. He planted a soft kiss on her head before he drew back, looking at her again. "No-one uses our kids like that and gets away with it."

"Brother, you have the subtlety of a troll," Maisie complained, pacing the Slytherin common room that night to the amusement of the few there, who always loved the sight of the slight redhead ranting at her taller, well-built brother. "This prank of yours will never work."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, May," Fred chirped in from behind her with a grin. "It's not his prank, it's a Weasley prank. Which means there's no way it's go wrong."

Maisie turned, folding her arms in a move that would have made most people step back. The Slytherin Princess was known for her awful temper. "You're good, Weasley, but not that good. And why are you involving my brother in this?"

"Because, little sister, the spell they needed didn't actually exist," Colby said, bored, from the armchair he was lounged in, seemingly not taking an eye off of the textbook he looked to be reading. Seemingly reading, because the book was only full of stuff he'd covered with his father years ago. He scoffed every year when he saw the book-list. He also wasn't paying any real attention to Fred and Maisie's argument. Maisie yelled at everything and it was just old. He mentally asked again why his sister was so stuck up, whining about stupid things when his lovely ex-"adoptive" father kept trying to kill them in the middle of a class.

Maisie whirled around to look at him and Fred sighed in relief behind her, glad that the attention had been taken off of him, even if he wasn't as affected by it as the majority of the Snake Pit.

"So Fred and Gin got you to make the spell? Oh dear, now my estimation of this prank has reached new lows," his sister replied, tapping a foot on the stone floor. Colby silently scoffed and faked a hurt look.

"But this is my forte," he protested, ending with a smirk. Maisie sighed. She had to admit that it was. Almost whatever you needed he could do. It was a fantastic gift but...

"Why don't you ever use it for anything important?" Maisie asked. Colby laughed at Fred's glare. Woe betide anyone who ever call Fred's pranks unimportant. Though he mostly used them to wind down when he was bored - with his twin brother in another house, Fred was better at actually studying, and though still a major focus of his, the pranks were secondary. The same could not be said of his twin however.

"My dear sister, don't you realise? This is important. How could a silent, wandless and best of all untraceable spell that alters people's appearances so they have green hair, silver eyes and pointy ears be unimportant? Especially when you pair it with the interesting things Fred managed to coerce the house elves into putting into a few breakfast items tomorrow," Colby asked with a smile. "Plus, now it's just a little tweak to get it to spell other colours too. Hmm... I'm thinking you'd love blue hair and yellow eyes. What do you think Fred?"

"I think that sounds brilliant, Cole-y," Fred said with another grin. Maisie glared at Colby, who shut his book and left it on the arm of the chair with a raised eyebrow at his sister, emerald eyes sparkling in mirth.

"Don't you dare, Bla-" her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. "Colby Shaw". Colby's laugh was strained, and he stood up to walk over to his sister. The common room had gone silent. Shocked stares from a few at what she'd almost said were mingled amongst confused looks from those not in the know. The smile had been wiped off of his face to be replaced with a cold, hard, almost expressionless face as he grabbed her arm tightly and put his face down to her ear.

"Well, Tanith, it's a good job that I'm not Colby Shaw then, isn't it?" Colby whispered, before letting go and smirking as the nervous giggling started to sound around the common room. "Nice hair."

Her head darted up, catching the mirror. "Argh! You..." she screamed, livid.

"Don't blame me, Lazy-Hazy-Maisie, it's my Godfather who's the bad influence," laughing as she stormed out of the room.

"Umm... mate, is there an counter-spell for that?" Ron asked quietly from near the fireplace. The corners of Colby's lips twitched up in an almost-smile.

"Not yet, I'll fix it when I can be bothered." He wasn't in a hurry though. He also wasn't planning to tell her to stay away from the bagels tomorrow.

Those damned kids. James thought as he looked at the Shaws over on the Slytherin table. They looked so familiar, especially the girl. But he couldn't figure out where from. It had bothered him from the day Colby Shaw had entered the Great Hall for the first time five years earlier. James looked back over at the Gryffindor table. It didn't matter, he'd even gone through their files and there was nothing to connect them to anyone he knew. It was just a coincidence, and he had his own son to worry about. After the last one...

James frowned. He couldn't think about that, not now. His first son may have been murdered but his second was alive and well and here. The mother might not have been Lily, but despite his best efforts he knew that Lily had never loved him. How could she? They'd kidnapped her, and as much as James had cared for her he knew it was still imprisonment. And she could never have been happy with that. Ellen Potter didn't love him either and he didn't love her either. It was, as callous as it sounded, a match founded on a necessity to keep the Potter bloodline going and a mutual respect. They liked each other well enough, but love had never been a part of it.

He did love his sons though - both the one by blood and the one by adoption - and Ellen loved them too. Andrew Potter, a second year Gryffindor, and Neville Longbottom. The second years were the only ones who he didn't teach his normal defence class to. He didn't want his son to see the ugliness he could commit. Not even he knew why he did it, but the need just burned. A retribution he had neither deserved to give out nor the right to give out, but it almost seemed like justice. Not for Lily - as while he didn't know exactly who she'd loved he knew it was a Slytherin and that made it more of a disgrace to her memory - but for his own bruised ego. He'd have been a fool to say that his treatment of Lily then and the Slytherins now were his only regrets. No, he had many of those, especially the disappointment which shot through him every time he caught Neville with Shaw. The two of them tried to hide their little meetings - after all, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin never went together - but the Marauder's Map showed a lot.

He picked up his mug and took another gulp as tea, just as the yelps started in the hall. He looked up, to see a sea of green hair in front of him. A quick glance around told him that even the teachers were affected. And they had the most interesting silver eyes. James sighed. At least no-one was hurt, though he'd find out who it was and when he did they would find themselves in detention. He hadn't quite decided how long for though. It was weirdly fun, plotting ways to ruin Slytherins days, and he loved it. As it surely was a Slytherin, now he just needed evidence.

Ginny smirked at Fred, who winked back. Colby just leant back and enjoyed the pandemonium. He knew it would cause some sort of fuss, but the sheer degree of chaos that had ensued was fantastic. Who would've thought that girls could whine that much about hair? He would send an owl to Padfoot that night, who Colby reckoned might be somewhat entertained by it. Whoever said that the Dark Lord's children couldn't have fun was an idiot. Though, it was perhaps unexpected that the son of Tom and Lily Riddle would be quite so interested in creating such menial inconveniences.

AN: So, who's the mudblood? Who's the "independent supervisor"? And if Voldemort's been alive for fifteen years, what on earth has he been doing the whole time?

And is this all rather obvious? Probably :P