Once there were two children. One child had eyes that used to be more vibrant than any emeralds in the world while another child had eyes that used to be brighter than any rubies in the world. But now, both children were lost, both eyes holding shadows deeper than any night can bring… Though they lived on, they were living no more, both had died before, however for the poor green eyed boy dead had no hold.

Harry Potter died for the first time on Allhallows eve, barely over a year in age. The next time he died was at the hands of his relative from a fever left untreated. He was frequent visitor never could stay. The last time someone had managed to kill him, he left something vital in the land of the dead.

The clearing was quite eerily so, but they had a job to do. The gloom around the trees seemed to deepen and a black mist crept from the bushes brushing at them.

Titus closed his eyes. He drew his shoulders back. He took a slow and steady breath. Then he spoke. There was a tension in the air. A weight. A wait. There was no wind. The world grew stretched and tight. Then chains broke and the world shattered.

The three dare breath as the wait for the being to stir. The dark king was small and pale upon his throne. His feet upon the stone were bare. His face still soft and sleeping. Then he drew a breath and opened up his eyes. The green glowing in the darkness, shining like a predator. Harry Potter stood, and in the circle of his liquid shadow he grinned, baring his teeth, and brought the weight of his desire down full upon the world. And all things shook. And all things knew his will. And all things bent to please him.

An ancient lady sat in her bed, breathing a sigh of relief as she felt the familiar magic wash over her and caress her aged skin. As she laid down for the last time her words whispered through the room "As long as he is free, the rest of the world can burn. This is all I can do for you." And as she slipped away to the realm of the death she could hear a faint "Thank you, my moonbeam. It was plenty."

Harry supposed this was what it felt like to awaken after an eternity of sleep. It was liberating. It felt as if everything had changed. He could feel that the world had aged. He stood on steady legs and stretched feeling wonderful as he glanced at the bloody runes swirling around him like a web. He looked up and toward his surrounds and saw everything was still clouded in the last bits of magical explosion. The air filled with white noise and you could barely make anything out in the fog of residue magic and dust.

He looked elegant, he wasn't old but eternal, not young but something about-him scream never dying. Black shadows had coalesced behind him like large feathered wings, flaring slightly. He waited patiently, as he clenched and unclenched the magic around him, testing it subtly. Then he looked over with deathly green eyes the three naïve wizardlings who had released him.