Okay here goes the usual disclaimer. I do not nor will I ever will own Harry potter or any other media used in this fanfics. This is purely for fun.

I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. It was mostly the groundwork to set up for this one. Now I didn't think I'd get this second chapter out so soon. I was having trouble deciding just how to get her to Hogwarts. But a good friend of mind gave me a great idea. Now let us begin.

Castle BloodHaven March fifth, Seven Hundred Thirteen of the holy roman Calendar.

The war between the house of Shival and house Logos had ravaged the land for seven long years. Villages burned to the ground and countless Wizards and mundane alike had been caught in the crossfire. The blood spilt was the things of nightmares. So many had died simply because one foolish young man had used his wand without thinking. Hitting a passing by witch by complete and utter accident. Yet that one foolish act had spiraled out of control. Until both sides had completely forgotten who's family the boy and girl had belonged to. With no end in sight it would seem all of Britannia would soon come to it's end. Yet that all changed when one old man known as the spell crafter, was captured by those of house Shival. A brilliant old wizard who had invented one hundred spells that would still be used over one hundred years after his death. His name was lost to the ages. Yet though his name was forgotten his final act would one day save the world, and make one young woman into a legend.

His name was William Spartus Malfoy.

In the cold dark dungeon of castle BloodHaven one old man was on his knees. Around him where piles of parchments and ancient tones. Many of them he himself had written. The old man's face was hidden by a massive beard. While his graying hair reached past his waist. A testament to his age and wisdom. His worn tattered robes where a testament to his imprisonment. With tearful eyes he looked up threw the bared window. The bright light of the moon filled his prison. The demands of his captors was clear. He was to invent a curse with no equal or counter. A curse that could instantly kill it's target with a single casting. Able to pierce and shield spell and charm. The mere thought of this spell in anyone's hand was terrifying to him. While the use of said curse would be UNFORGIVABLE!

For nearly a year he had refused there demands. Putting up with torture that would shatter lesser men's souls. Yet after all the torture all the potions he held strong. His will stronger then the hardest steel. Tempered in the hottest flames of both life and battle. Until this very night he had held strong, yet that had come to an earth shattering end. For they had found the one thing that would make him create such an abomination. They had captured his children and there families. If he did not comply by weeks end and make there curse. His precious children and there families would be turned over to the church. If that was done they would suffer an end he would wish on no one. Looking up at the moon he said to any being that could hear his plea, his voice was raspy and worn from disuse. "Please if any being in this world can here me. I know that what I'm about to create will become evil's greatest tool. That thousands upon thousands will die from it. But if there is any way to redeem this blight upon magic itself, PLEASE HELP ME FIND IT!" He then began to cry. The lives of the many weighing down on him like the ocean itself. When all seemed lost it came to him like a bolt of lightning. As if magic itself had spoken to him. In an instant he knew what he had to do.

Lifting his robes up revealed his scarred and thin torso. Testament to the torture he had to go threw. Raising his right hand up he looked at his long sharp nails. Determination in his eyes as he knew what to do. Steeling his nerves he began to carve runes into his skin. The runes where fluid and clear. A blend of three different magical Languages all perfectly blended. From the runes of the Celts, to the soft glyphs of the elves. Finally ending with the now lost language of Atlantis itself. All three for the first and last time had been perfectly blended. Creating a runic array that would forever effect all magic till the end of time. Had it been on another canvas it would have been considered a masterpiece of masterpieces. The ancient man poured his heart and soul into his work. Not once did he cringe as he worked. When he finished he lowered the robes. He then placed both his hands over his heart. Where the core glyph resided. For one solid hour he softly chanted. What little magic remained in his body went into his final spell. One that would forever remain in the essence of magic itself. Looking up at the moon one last time in his life he said with the conviction of a king.

"I hereby bring into this world a killing curse. A curse that will instantly end the life of it's victim. Yet I place one final limit on this evil. Should this curse ever strike one who is completely without sin or hatred. Whose heart has no evil within it at all. That this evil curse shall kill the caster instead of the target. To make this so I offer my own life to this curse. SO MOTE IT BE!" Underneath his robes the runes glowed with the pale light of his very soul. As magic itself accepted the contract.

The very next day he gave his captors what they wanted. As proof to the power of the curse. He demonstrated said curse on himself. Sealing forever his pact with magic. His heavy heart on his darkest work. Was made just a little bit lighter. Knowing that his family was safe. While with there new curse the house of Shival ended the cursed war in days. The terror of the curse spread like wildfire. Less then a year later the people of wizarding Britain united to overthrow the house of Shival. The decedents of those who led this revolt would go on to found a School in the very castle that once housed the house of Shival.

None would know of the sacrifice of an old man. Yet his legacy would live on.

October thirty-first, nineteen eighty nine. Godric's Hollow.

The cool October air could send chills down the spines of even the strongest of men. On this night when it was said the souls of the dead could rise up and travel the world. For many it was a night of celebration. When children would go door to door getting candy. For others it was a night to practice rites and rituals long forgotten by the common people. But for one man it was a night for one thing and one thing only.

MURDER.

This man was not some escaped madman or some deranged criminal. He was a member of a secret society living in hiding behind a veil of secrecy. A man gifted with powers beyond those of mortal men and women. The man with only murder in his mind was a wizard known to his kind as Lord Voldemort. A leader of a terrorist group known as the death eaters. He had legions of both dark wizards and monsters from the deepest nightmares at his command. For eleven years he had only one goal in mind. The complete and utter conquest of the world. With the supposedly Pureblooded wizards ruling over all with an iron fist. To achieve this goal he had personally killed hundreds. While his solders followed his command without question. It was one of his most loyal of followers that had caused him to hunt be here this night. To kill the one person who could possibly stand before him. The words of the so called prophecy still rung in his ears.

The child born as the seventh month dies approaches. Born to ye who has thrice defied the dark lord. The child will be born with a power the dark lord knows not. The child shall defy fate and shatter destinies chains. The child will be the fall of the dark lord. For four times the child will face him in battle, and four times the Dark Lord will be struck down."

With a sneer the dark lord looked on as the lights came on in the many cottages started to come on. As his thoughts drifted to the prophesy once more he sighed as he said with an air of false nobility. "A child able to defy fate and shatter destiny. Where it not for the part of her being my fall I may have taken such a child under my wing." The clouds overhead parted allowing the moon's gentle light to reveal the dark lord to the world.

The man appeared to be no more then forty years old. His midnight black hair was cut short, and slicked back. His skin was light almost ghostly white. while his face was one of an aristocrat. At first glance he was considered an true noble. Yet it was his eyes that drove one to terror. As the moonlight illuminated twin golden snakelike eyes. The twin slitted orbs held nothing but madness and rage behind them. His body was hidden under loose black robes. Underneath these robes was armor made from the hide of a dragon he himself had slain in his youth. It was that beast that had brought him the closest to death he had ever come. It was that battle that he learned to never hold back. To never show mercy to ones enemy. Thus to never forget the lessons of that old battle he wore the beasts hide. The first and only sign of respect he had ever given in his life. This was the man known as Lord Voldemort. The man who was considered the darkest wizard in modern history. As his eyes scanned over the village the Dark lord his senses take in the magic around him. The dark rituals he had undergone allowing him to sense magic itself. Slowly he sensed all those in the village with the gift of magic. With a sneer of disgust he sensed the many wizards of the village living among common muggles in hiding. The sheer thought of this caused his eyes to flash with raw magic.

With a light snarl in his voice he said seemingly to thin air. "Have you done as I have commanded you to Wormtail?" From the grass behind him scurried a large rat. As it drew closer to the dark lord the rat began to inflate like a balloon. His fur shifted and his long head shortened. In a matter of seconds where once stood a rat. Was a man on his knees. The man was clearly heavyset. While his long hair was matter and tangled. His face looked as if he was still in the middle of his change from rat to man. His from teeth where oversized with a rat like look to him. While his clothes where tattered and worn. If there ever was a 'human rat' this was that man. With a whimper of fear the man known as Wormtail said with a slight stutter of fear. "Yes my lord I have told the order how you plain to attack Diagon alley. The order should be occupied for the next several hours." Without looking back at him Voldemort said bluntly with no attempt to hide the disgust he had for the man. "And the secret of the Fidelius?"

With trembling hands he reached into his coat. Slowly he began to pull out a small scrap of paper. Pausing for a moment he looked at his lord's back. His blood swiftly went cold as he saw the bonelike wand of his master seemingly float from the man's cloak into his hand. The tip began to glow with the tell tale glow of the killing curse. His desire to live taking control her instantly held out the paper to him. His face only got slightly less pale as the sickly green glow faded. As if an invisible hand had taken the paper from him. The tiny scrap of paper floated towards the space in front of Voldemort's face. His snakelike eyes scanned the piece of paper like a predator scanning his prey. After memorizing everything written on the paper he looked once more at the village before him. With a feral grin he saw a new cottage in the heart of the small village. As the paper fell to the earth he said to himself pleased. "Ah the Fidelius charm is a true wonder of magic. Able to defend those inside from even my gaze." He then looked at Wormtail in complete and utter disgust. "That is if the secret keeper wasn't a sniveling vermin."

He then began his walk to the cottage. Walking down the street his wand was in hand. His eyes where fixed on the cottage and the cottage alone. As he walked down the street several late night passers by looked at him in confusion. The last thing these poor souls would ever see was a sickly green light race towards them. As with the skill worthy of a master swordsmen he sent the killing curse with deadly accuracy. Not a single time did he need to look towards his targets. In all five poor souls had been killed by the time he reached his goal. As he reached the front gate to the small white fence. Voldemort had a feral look in his eyes. A light tap of his wand caused the gate to softly swing open. Walking towards the door he didn't hesitate to unleash a blasting curse one the door. Splinters exploded into the house in a blinding show of force. Completely unfazed he stepped into the small home. Not sensing any threats he looked around in mild curiosity. Only for his gaze to stop on the nearby floor.

There lying unconscious was a man in his late twenties. The only thing visible was his messy brown hair. His body was riddled with splinters. While his wand was laying on a nearby coffee table. Looking at him in disgust he was tempted to end him then and there. As he was about to unleash the killing curse the sound of a door slamming met his ears. Looking at the stairs he smiled and said to the unconscious man mockingly. "Another time perhaps." With that he calmly walked up the stairs. Each step was like a wolf stalking it's prey. As the thrill of the hunt ran threw his veins. As he reach the top he looked down the small hall. There where only five rooms but only one of the doors was closed. Taking one step forward he stopped as he smiled once more. Raising his wand once more he said amused. "Nice try my dear. Petrificus Totalus" The spell flew from his wand shooting down the hall it's path sharply curved into one of the open doors. With a soft thud a young woman fell. Most of her body was invisible. While only her head and shoulders could be seen. Her arms and legs held tightly against her body with an invisible force. Walking over he stopped to look down at her. With a amused gaze he looked at the furious woman before.

The young woman couldn't have been more then Twenty five. With long crimson hair that went to her waist. Her eyes where like twin emeralds, they held no fear of the man before her. Only the fury of a lioness protecting her young. Her beauty made even the dark lord admire her. Looking at her he had a sinister grin. Lazily pointing his wand at her he said with mild sarcasm. "We meet again my dear Lily. I must say you are truly one of the few Mudbloods I could dare say deserved to live. Your ferocity in battle and skill almost rivals my own." He then kneeled down so that she would hear what he said next as clear as day. "However you choose to stand against me. Even going so far as to take down three of my inner circle. For that you will pay. Beginning now. You will lay there as I kill that which is most precious to you. Then I'm going to personally give you to my death eaters to play with. Only when the life hope has completely left you. When you are nothing more then an empty shell will I end you suffering." As he stood up the fury in her eyes could have driven demons back to hell.

With a simple wave of his wand the door to the nursery opened. The intricate protective wards surrounding the room completely shattering. Walking into the nursery he snorted in content. The bright colors and stuffed animals filling the room almost brought him to physical pain. Eager to vacate the room and leave it a charred ruin he looked for the child said to one day end him. His search came to a swift end as he saw a large crib. Seeming to glide over like a specter he stopped to look at his would be slayer. What he found was not what he was expecting. For the was not one child there where two. Clearly twins a boy and a girl. The boy was sound asleep. His tiny hands clutching his blanket tightly. The girl was slowly waking up. As she began to stir the first thing she saw was the Dark lord. Unknowing of the threat he posed she raised her hands up wanting to be picked up.

Looking at the child's eyes Voldemort could tell the young child had her mother's eyes. Like twin orbs of brilliant emerald they shined. With a smile he looked at her as he aimed his wand. "You have your mother's eyes. Avada Kadavera" The green light shot out of his wand like green lightning. The bolt of death hit her right over the heart. As the energy filled her body it searched her soul and heart. Having been only a few months old. Evil hadn't the chance to take root. It was the that magic itself stirred. As the energy from the curse shot out of her just as fast as it came. The energy completely leaving her body. While the force caused her to drift back to sleep. That same force sent the dark lord clear into the wall. As a spider web crack formed from the force. His eyes hung motionless and dead. While from his chest a tiny black flame sparked. Not wanting whoever may one day defeat him to gain the secrets to the rituals that empowered him. The dark lord had set a trap to destroy his body upon his death. Within seconds his body was reduced to black ash. As the binding holding Lily Potter still shattered. Like a lioness she dashed into the room wand ready. Only to stare in shock at the sight before her. Her eyes going from the black ashes to her peacefully sleeping children.

All across Britain men and women in service to the Dark Lord looked on in shock. As the Dark mark the symbol of the dark lord faded from there left forearms. Leaving only a pale shaded mark in it's place. In the war zone of Diagon alley all stopped as the raiding death eaters raised there sleeves in panic. The thoughts of all his followers was voiced by one mans bellow of horror.

"THE DARK LORD HAS FALLEN!"

And chapter two is Done. I mostly wanted to set up how the dark lord fell in this chapter. Mainly how Harry survives. Plus I wanted to sort of explain how the Malfoys got so rich, and how in this story there are some good ones. I also wanted to make Voldemort a little more badass. Inspired partly by "REAL" villains. If you watch Robot Chicken you would understand that joke. It really ripped into his lack of a nose. Now please if any of you have any ideas please fell free to send them.