II

-VOLDEMORT-

Tom looked at his Death Eaters in anger. No, it was not them he was angry at, but the blasted mudblood lover James Potter. The man had steadily become more and more of a pain in the ass over the last five years, ever since Hadrian Potter should've started Hogwarts.

It all began on July 31st, 1990, Hadrian's 11th birthday (the 10th and 9th birthday of his younger two children), when Tom had staged an attack on Diagon Alley. Hundreds of students and their families had been traversing the densely packed streets. When the aurors arrived, Captain James Potter led them. Within seconds he was ripping killing curses, diffindos, and bombardas at the Death Eaters. His loyal soldiers had been shocked, they were unused to aurors attacking so violently. Lucius later informed him that at a top secret Wizengamot meeting, the Wizengamot had given the Auror Corps the right to use deadly force if they deemed it fit.

While the Auror Corps had always been filled with competent duelists, they had always been limited to spells not immediately lethal. Whereas the Death Eaters had free reign in regards to their magic use and targets. The sudden change in resistance ability had severely wounded the moral of the Death Eaters. No longer would they be able to walk over their victims.

It only got worse from that point, the Auror Corps began a heavy recruiting campaign, jumping their numbers from one hundred, to over one thousand in the span of less than a year. They scoured ministry records for squibs that had joined the muggle military, and hired them to teach auror instructors how to effectively fight as a team.

Since 1990, over two hundred and fifty Death Eaters had been killed. Less than one hundred aurors experienced the same fate. It reminded Tom far too much of his early days as a Dark Lord.

He called out loudly, "Lucius! Come here."

His slippery follower walked quickly to his lord.

"Yes, my lord?"

"How many?" The words were void of emotion.

"Ten dead my lord, eighteen injured, two captured."

"What of the aurors? Have Sirius and Regulus returned?"

Lucius gulped loudly, around them, Death Eaters stopped what they were doing, looking nervous, whatever was wrong with the Blacks, Tom knew he would be angry.

"Answer me Lucius. What is wrong with the Blacks?"

Lucius took a shuddered breath, and looked down, when he spoke, it was almost a whisper.

"I regret to inform you my lord, that Sirius is with the Order. Regulus was captured. His cover is blown."

Tom saw red. One of his best spies, captured. This was not how he planned the last few years to go.

"Where is Severus? Are they wary of him or Sirius? And for that matter, where is Regulus being held?"

Lucius was silent for a moment, before he answered. "Severus is in the med-room, he took a bonebreaker to his left calf during the raid, I do not believe the light is being shined on either of them. They are spies for a reason, they are excellent actors, and Regulus would never give up any of our secrets, he's far too strong an occlumens. Regulus is likely in the ministry, they'd want to check his health, and try to interrogate him before sending to an Azkaban holding cell."

"Begin preparations for rescuing him. Take Barty and the Lestranges. Attack at night, and do it quietly. Use knives if you need to, just don't get caught. Tell me when Sirius and Severus get back."

With those words, and a sweep of his cloak, Tom stood and disappeared into the shadows.

-REGULUS-

Ministry Holding cells were dark and wet. Being designed to hold a person for two days at the longest, little mind was paid to the cleanliness of them. As long as no one could break out of them, they were adequate. Well, adequate for the DMLE, for Regulus Black however, being placed in one was the ultimate insult.

His prison was no more than a ten foot cube, made of three stone walls, a stone floor, and a stone ceiling. The fourth wall consisted of regularly spaced iron bars, disrupted only by a door made of near identical bars. There was a large stone bowl with a faucet above it, meant to act as both toilet and sink, on the left wall. On the back wall was a large stone slab, supposedly, this was his bed. Regulus couldn't understand how it could be considered so, there was no mattress, and it had long since began eroding.

All in all, he quite missed the Black Manor. He had been sat here for hours, with no end to his boredom in sight. Honestly, what was taking Sirius so long? The Dark Lord would've ordered a rescue mission immediately. Even if his cover was blown, he was still one of the best duelists within the Death Eater ranks, poor Higgins in the next cell was was expendable, he wasn't. Regulus supposed he should have some fun while he waited.

"Guard!" No answer. "Guard! I know you can hear me!"

Still no answer.

"Guard!"

"WHAT?! What do you want, you Death Eater scum?" Hmm, it was Hestia Jones. How unfortunate.

"Aw, don't be like that Hestia! I'm surprised you hadn't figured it out by now! You saw me naked quite regularly, and you've always been good at seeing through glamours. "

His former lover didn't answer, how droll.

"Really Hestia? The silent treatment? You aren't that much younger than me! Only ten years! You are far from a child."

"Just shut up will you! You're nothing but a filthy fucking traitor to the wizarding world!"

Very suddenly, Regulus grabs the bars, and stares through them. He can see Hestia's side as she flinches from the sudden movement and noise. She turns to look at him.

He all but hisses his next words, "No Hestia, you are the only traitor here. I fight for the freedom and purity of the Wizarding World. You are a blood traitor, willing to kill your fellow wizard, just to protect some worthless, random, muggle fucking waste of space." He can see the tears in her eyes, he supposes she might have truly cared for him. Too bad.

"Release me now, and I'll see to it that you survive. My lord is a forgiving man. Swear your service to him, and you will live." He supposes he cared for her too.

Hestia stares at him through the bars. Unaware of the bleach-blond man standing behind her. More tears leek from her eyes. She looks ready to collapse sobbing as she speaks.

"I'm sorry Reggie. But I can't do that. You killed two aurors today. You've killed many more in the past. You must pay for your crimes."

Regulus sighs and nods, before grabbing her hand through the bars (quite a poor design choice on the part of the Ministry). "I'm sorry too. Do it Lucius."

Hestia looks confused, before she turns around in horror, wand falling into her right hand. Unfortunately for her, she's too slow. She makes it halfway before Lucius shoves a dagger into her side, covering her mouth with his left hand. Barty unlocks the door to his cell as he watches his lover fall to the ground, barely breathing, and unable to do anything but lean against the bars.

He takes her wand from her limp hand as he steps out. He looks at her, she looks back. He can see the agony in her eyes.

He looks away as he raises her wand, and whispers his final words to her, "I'm sorry 'Tia. Avada Kedavra."

The green spell hits her, and the light leaves her eyes. He takes the knife Lucius offers him.

"Are we bringing Higgins?"

Lucius responds in the negative.

Regulus raises the stolen wand again, "Avadava Kedavra." The green light flies straight through the iron bars of Higgins' cell, killing him before he can beg for his life.

"Let's get the fuck out of here." Regulus drops the wand on Hestia's body and walks out of the detention room, not sparing a glance behind him.

Barty begins to speak, but falls silent at the shake of Lucius' head. After a brief moment, they follow Regulus.

-SIRIUS-

Sirius looked around the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was surrounded by Order members. Half were screaming at each other. A quarter looked ready to kill themselves. And the remainder stared at him. He supposed he would too, if he were in their position. It wasn't everyday that you learned one of the men who hosted your vigilante groups meetings secretly fought for the enemy. Still though, people had been screaming at each other for hours. Sirius grew tired of it. He needed to report to the Dark Lord. He wanted to be part of his brother's rescue party.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the screaming. The old man must've noticed how tired he was.

"We've argued for the past five hours. Perhaps we could speak like adults for five minutes?" Dumbledore looks around the room, with his 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' look. It's been known to make eighty year old men look down in shame, with those damn twinkling blue eyes.

The many Order members looked around, wondering who would speak first. Fucking children. Forty grown witches and wizards, and yet none of them was willing.

It was old Mad Eye who broke the silence. "Fucking hell you bunch of pussies. If none of you will ask it, I'll fucking do it. Did you know he was a Death Eater, Black?"

"Eloquent as always Alastor. But I must agree with his question Sirius. Did you know young Regulus was a Death Eater?" Dumbledore looked unfazed by Moody's outburst, unlike most of the other Order members.

"No, headmaster. I didn't. I wouldn't be sitting here if I did. And before you ask Moody, Reggie Jr. didn't know either. Regulus never would've told him."

Dumbledore opens his mouth to speak again, but Moody beats him to it.

"Sounds like bullshit to me Black. You've lived in the same house as him his entire life, and he's managed to keep this a secret for this long?"

"Odd bastard is long overdue a killing curse. I'll have to give him one next raid," Sirius thought to himself.

James answers Moody before Sirius can.

"Fuck off Mad Eye. If Sirius says he didn't know, he didn't. Why don't you question Snivellus? He's our resident Dark Mark holder. Surely he should've known!"

How inconvenient for the man, that Snape isn't here to defend himself. There's mutterings around the room, clearly most people agree with the sentiment. If there was another Death Eater within their midst, why didn't their spy warn them?

The man was a godsend, how perfectly he deflected the rightful blame from Sirius, despite not knowing it. Within minutes, he had gone from being the prime suspect to a man all but exonerated. James truly possessed a remarkable talent for making people agree with him, he always had. Ever since their first days in Hogwarts the Potter Lord had been bending people over backwards with his tongue, it was awe inspiring to watch. The man may denounce the traditionally pureblood way of life (dueling and politics), but he had a great ability for both. It was a shame he had chosen the muggles over his fellow mages.

Sirius truly thought of James as a brother; he always had, and always will. But the bespectacled man served the wrong side, and he would burn with the rest of the magic traitors eventually. And however unfortunate that may be, the man had betrayed his blood, betrayed his world, and that was unexceptable.

Sirius gave James a nod as Dumbledore tried to control the rumour spreading and general hysteria, after all, if one Death Eater could hide amongst them for years, what was preventing another from doing so?

James nodded back at him, and gave a sad smile, thinking Sirius must be in pain from learning his brother was a Death Eater, unwilling to drop the charade, Sirius returned it.

The door to 12 Grimmauld Place's basement kitchen is opened, and Severus Snape walks down the stairs, the greasy-haired man appeared haggard and had a slight limp in his step.

He wasted no time in speaking, his rough voice grinding out, "Regulus Black has escaped the ministry. Lucius Malfoy and Crouch Jr. were helping him into the infirmary as I left. According to Lucius Hestia Jones is dead, as is Romulus Higgins, both by Black's hand."

Pandemonium descends on the Order of The Phoenix. It had been months since a member of their own had died, they didn't know how to deal with the news. Especially as her murderer was the mad who had been her lover, who had been one of them meer hours ago. Sirius doesn't have to fake his shock, he never thought Reggie would be able to kill Hestia. Despite everything, he had loved the girl, even if he never said it. He supposes he shouldn't underestimate his brother in the future.

The Order is loud (particularly Dadelus Diggle and Amos DIggory), but Sirius is louder. "Is he hurt?"

A hush falls over the room, people either too shocked to speak, or perhaps curious about the answer themselves. In typical Moody fashion, Moody breaks the silence before Severus can respond.

"He's a Death Eater that was in Ministry custody, Black. What do you care if he's hurt?"

Sirius turns a furious glare to the grizzled old auror, and with words near a hiss, he lashes back at the man.

"Death Eater or not, he's my baby brother, and the godfather to my son. Answer the question Snape."

The addressed wizard does so before anyone else can blurt out their fool opinions.

"Not visibly at the least, but you would know better than I what killing his lover would do to him," the man grimaces and clutches his left arm (it takes all of Sirius' willpower to avoid doing the same to his hidden mark), before speaking again, "The Dark Lord calls, I must go to him."

At Dumbledore's nod, Snape turns, and with his cloak waving in the (nonexistent) wind behind him, makes his way back up the stairs and out the door. James stands as well, with Lily with him.

"We'll take our leave as well Headmaster, Jimmy and Cassi will want to know what's going on." Lily speaks for herself and her husband. James nods to Sirius and gives him a firm grip of the shoulder as they leave. Mutterings of reasons for leaving filter through the room, and the numerous wizards and witches make their way out, some through the fireplace near the table, others through the door.

Sirius stands and makes his way to the stairs, speaking as he goes, "I'll see you soon Headmaster, Reggie Jr. deserves to know what happened to his dad."

Dumbledore gives him a sad nod, before disappearing in a flash of fire, courtesy of the phoenix sitting on his shoulder.

Within minutes, the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place is empty, revealing the true nature of the large room; sad, dark, and lonely.

-HARRY-

"This plan is stupid."

Harry looked around the alley. It was a cold day in London, the peak temperature for the day was barely supposed to reach 5 degrees. And yet, the Dark Lord wanted them to perform a raid, a stupid one at that.

Diagon Alley was minimally populated. The majority of its inhabitants composed of housewives buying groceries and a store owners. Occasionally someone buying a last minute Valentine's gift could be seen, what with the Day of Love being less than three days away. This raid was not designed to kill people, it was designed to introduce Harry to the Wizarding World at large. For fifteen years he had lived in hiding, training to be the best assassin his father could want. He was a master at his art. A better liar than the Black Brothers, crueler than the Lestranges, more slippery than Lucius Malfoy, a better duelist than his father himself. He was well trained, he was well equipped (several knives and daggers of various sizes and uses, three wands, and a muggle Browning Hi-Power firearm, charmed to be silent), he was the best.

At least, he would be, when he got some experience under his belt, beyond the mudbloods that were forced to duel him at wand point.

"Are you doubting your Lord Father?"

Harry throws Regulus a glare, the older man had a slightly unhealthy obsession with the rules, and a little bit too much respect for his father. It was truly a wonder the man had survived as a spy as long as he had, Harry had never seen him react well to a slight against his father, him sitting in an Order meeting would be amazing to see.

"No Reggie, I'm saying this plan is fucking stupid."

Barty snorts on his left. The Crouch heir had significantly less respect for authority than Regulus. Harry suspected it had to do with his father. From what he had heard, the Lord Crouch was incredibly strict, and a slight helicopter parent. It was sensible that Barty had developed a dislike for those in power, the man had been controlled for essentially his entire life. It was truly a wonder that he had stayed loyal to the Dark Lord for almost two and a half decades.

Regulus sends a glare to at the younger Crouch, and Harry too, in his mind, he was a terrible influence on Harry. The not quite seventeen year old was extremely impressionable, and considering he spent most of his time with Barty, he had appropriated all of the older man's bad habits, particular his penchant for vulgar language.

"Regardless of your opinion on the plan, this is how your father expects us to complete the raid."

Harry returned Regulus' glare, the second Black son had always acted like a second father. He already had one, he didn't need a second.

"Father's orders don't change the plans idiocy. The alley is far too small to have so many Death Eaters dispersed in the crowd. They'll be fucking eaten alive when the aurors arrive."

"Good thing they're unimportant. Why do you think they're all no names from the continent? This is your party, not theirs," Barty chimed in. "So long as the Wizarding World knows to fear you, the death of the others doesn't matter."

A heavy sigh is his only response. He slips his silver mask onto his face, and draws his wand. The battle will start soon, and people will die in the dozens.

-BREAK-

The first spell is unexpected. The people milling about Diagon Alley are shocked at the suddenness. One moment all is quiet, and in another, a killing curse rips through an older wizard near Flourish and Blott's. The effect is instant, no more than a second after his body hits the ground do people start screaming. Mayhem ensues, as the remaining twenty Death Eaters reveal themselves, launching spell after spell. Within a minute nearly twenty people are on the ground dead, or dying.

With a near silent crack, Harry apparated into the Leaky Cauldron. The dingy pub was nearly empty. With a swiftly cast cutting curse, the fat barkeeps throat began to gush blood. With a gurgle, the man fell against the wall, clutching at his neck in vain. The Dark Lord's heir could hear a sob from somewhere in the room.

Throwing a table out of his way, he finds a cute blonde haired girl near his own age not far from the restroom. Seeing him, she pushes herself along the ground further into the corner of the bar.

He kneels down in front of her, tilting his head, as if confused. Lightly, he rests his palm against her cheek. Her flinching away from his touch angers him, though it is unsurprising. More forcefully he grabs the right side of her face and speaks, near silent, "Look at me."

She does, and he slips his mask off. Her eyes widen at his youth, but before she can respond, his mind slips into hers with practiced ease. She feebly attempts to raise her mental barriers, but he has had years of practice to hone his skills as a natural at the mind arts.

Her name is Lisa Turpin and she's a halfblood Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. The fat barkeep was her uncle, and she was away from the castle celebrating her birthday with him, as she had just turned sixteen. She didn't know who he was, but she did know he wasn't much older than her, and he bore a striking resemblance to a classmate of hers; James Potter Jr., popularly called Jimmy.

He exits her mind at that thought, forcing himself to forget what he saw. He has a job to do.

She looks ready to break. Tears flow down her cheeks slowly, she knows whats coming, and she's terrified. He steels himself as he speaks.

"I'm sorry you know. But I have a destiny in this world. I can't allow anything to get in my way." He can tell she doesn't believe him, as an explosion rocks the building.

Very suddenly, she becomes cold. She lets out a strangled gasp as she looks down, for blood slowly seeps from a small wound just below her breasts. He presses a light kiss to her lips, had things been different, they may have ended up in a relationship, but the world was a cruel place.

The tears fall faster as he stands, sliding his mask into place. He speaks once more as he nears the door.

"I'm truly sorry it had to be this way. Avada Kedavra." The killing curse strikes her chest, and the tears stop at once. He looks at her now glassed over eyes, and it takes all his mental strength to force himself through the pubs door. He has work to do.

The alley is a mess as he steps through the door. Bodies, alive and dead, Death Eater and civilian, line the stone street. He's slightly taken aback by the amount of bodies. He had only spent a few minutes in the pub, and yet there were nearly fifty witches and wizards on the ground.

He sees Barty and Regulus a few hundred feet away. They're barely a foot apart, surrounded by aurors. It seems the remaining Death Eaters were among the dead. Harry allows his body to dissolve into a black mist, and suddenly he's moving forward, towards the screamed unforgivables, and his fiercely battling friends.

His fellows notice him approaching, but the aurors don't, that's good. As he reforms, he shoves a dirk into an older man's back. He gasps as he falls, his last spell lost on in favor of a dying gasp. Harry spins out of the way of a cutting curse, and returns one of his own. His attacker is a pink haired young woman. She has a pretty face, marred by rage. Probably his victims partner.

She dodges his attacks as he sends two more cutting curses and a piercing hex at her. She's fast, he muses, as she quickly responds with a rather dark curse, designed to choke someone on their own blood. The auror corps had become particularly vicious a few years ago.

Barty and Regulus are making quick work of the remaining aurors, they didn't seem to have the natural talent of this one. They were sluggish, weak. The pink haired auror was nimble. She had a grace about her dueling style that spoke of years of practice, surprising considering her age. Though, Harry supposed he couldn't talk, he was undoubtedly several years younger than the woman, and was dueling circles around her. Already, he had nicked her with more than a few cutters, and she was noticeably limping from a piercing hex that had gone through her left thigh.

An over the top jump and twist sent him careening over a blasting hex, an upward slash of his wand sent another cutter towards her left ankle. The sheer velocity on the curse made her attempt to dodge useless, as a half inch deep gash tore open her foot. A strangled cry left her mouth, as a cruciatus exploded from her wand (she must really hate him, for the curse was silent). He flicked his wan it into the door of the ice cream shop, as she struggled to her feet, gasping for breath.

Despite her skill, she was inexperienced, at least against Death Eaters. A killing curse sent just over her shoulder caused her to freeze, eyes wide. A stunner later, and she was on the ground, out for the count. Harry moved on quickly, ripping a dark haired witches back open with a dark cutter. He made his way towards Barty and Regulus, they were tiring quickly, and needed the battle to end soon. Luckily, only five aurors remained standing, and seeing the havoc surrounding them, they portkeyed away, at the leaders shouted "FALL BACK!"

Regulus took in a labored breath, searching the alley for movement, there was none. The three of them were the only ones standing, and visibly at least, the only ones alive (excluding the pink haired auror, who Regulus seemed to have a strange curiosity with). Harry decided to vocalize that thought.

"Reggie? Do you know her?"

Regulus looked at him and responded in the affirmative, "Sirius and I's cousin. Nymphadora Tonks. If you had gone to Hogwarts, her seventh year would've been your first."

Harry gave a slow nod, before turning to the sky. With a stab of his wand, and a muttered "Morsemordre," a glowing green dark mark emblazoned the sky, oddly beautiful, despite the horror on the ground below it.

He turned to his fellows, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Barty disapparated immediately. Regulus gave him a quick nod before doing the same. With one last look around the destroyed alley, Harry too disapparated, ready for a long bath.

-JAMES-

James Potter truly hated his job some days. He enjoyed patrolling Hogsmeade as Hogwarts students milled about, he enjoyed working security at Quidditch games. He did not enjoy getting called in on his day off because of a Death Eater raid.

Diagon Alley was all but destroyed. Dozens of shops were missing windows, doors, and parts of walls. Several were even burning (or already burned). Bodies lined the street, as all those who were fortunately still living had been evacuated to Saint Mungo's, or were being treated by Medi-Aurors (specialized aurors who had received medical training, beyond the basics).

Being an Auror Captain, he had to oversee the investigation, so hopefully he could retreat to the Auror office fairly quickly, James was certain he was going to throw up if he had to stomach the scent of death for more than a few minutes.

Upon spotting him, James made his way over to Kingsley, as the black auror kneeled down next to Junior Auror Tonks.

"What the bloody hell happened Kings? There hasn't been a raid this bad in over a decade!"

Kingsley sighed and stood up, leaving the Medi-Auror to tend to Tonks. He seemed tired when he spoke, "I don't know James. Nearly forty dead, that we've found. There's a few people still unaccounted for, probably stuck under the rubble of their shops. So far, it looks like another random attack, just more successful."

James frowned, he didn't like that. There had to be something that set this raid apart, besides the body count of course. "And the Death Eaters? Anyone we know?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Unknowns from the continent. Half of them have been missing for years. According to Tonks and the other surviving aurors, three Death Eaters are missing. All with silver markings, and one with a silver mask."

James raised an eyebrow at Kingsley. A silver mask? James had never heard of such, they were special, now James just had to figure out why. The taller auror nodded, he knew the significance of such a mask. James kneeled down to look at one of the dead aurors, it was Robards, he had no identifiable wounds other than a knife in the small of his back.

"Anything else big happen?"

Kingsley sighed, and James didn't like the sound of it.

"Dead Hogwarts student."

James's head snapped up. He really didn't like that.

"Who?"

"Lisa Turpin, Ravenclaw, same year as Jimmy. She was celebrating her sixteenth birthday with her uncle, Tom, over at the Cauldron."

"Fuck…" James didn't know what else to say, how are you supposed to respond when you learn that one of your kids yearmates is dead? "How?"

"Tom took a cutter to the neck, poor bastard didn't even have time to draw his wand. The girl got hit with a piercer to the stomach, before being finished with an AK. Tonks thinks it was the silver mask, he showed up late to the main duel, and by then pretty much everyone else in the alley was dead, or dying."

James nodded and looked at Tonks, besides a few scrapes, his best friends cousin looked largely unharmed.

"You look mostly okay Tonks, what happened?"

Tonks grimaced as the Medi-Auror made her drink a blood replenishing potion, despite being overtly helpful, it was truly a vile substance.

"The silver-masked Death Eater. Bastard is good. He was dueling circles around me," She shivered, and looked downright terrified. "He's the greatest duelist I've ever seen. Better than both of you, Sirius, and even Moody. I sent a cruciatus at him towards the end of the duel, and he redirected it! Without even a grunt of effort, he sent it into the door of Fortescue's. After, he surprised me with an AK. Sent it wide over my shoulder, and hit me with a stunner while I was still in shock."

She looked down here, quite clearly disappointed in herself. James had no time for self-pity, it was a useless thing, he had learned that the hard way.

"Don't pity yourself Tonks. Be glad that you are alive, and be prepared to beat him should you cross paths again," James told her with a steely glint in his eye.

The young woman nodded and with the permission of the Medi-Auror, took a portkey to St. Mungo's.

James turned to Kingsley and sighed, they had lots of work to do.

-HARRY-

Harry kneels before his father, mask firmly in place. His breathing was heavy, for it had been no more than fifteen minutes since the end of the raid. Ten of those had been spent cataloging the results of the raid, the remaining five relaxing slightly before speaking to the Dark Lord, it would not do to be completely winded when speaking to him. But at the same time, one should not keep his father waiting, he was far too liberal with his usage of the cruciatus for that, even on him.

His father sat in his throne within Riddle Manor, his gaunt form misleading in the gilded chair. Despite his intense magical power, his father neared seventy years old, and due to his regular use of powerful, and dangerous, dark magic, all seventy of those years showed. Each year, his father got progressively worse looking, while not necessarily noticeable from year-to-year, his father's looks ten years ago, were startlingly different from the present day.

His father's voice was high and cold, almost devoid of life, though Harry knew this to be a practiced skill, used for intimidation. From memories he had seen of the man's earlier years, he knew his voice remained unchanged from his time being known as Tom Riddle.

"I take it you were successful?" His expectant father asked (more stated, but that mattered little to Harry).

Harry took a deep breath, still slightly winded from battle, before speaking, "Yes father. Of the Death Eaters from the continent, none remain." His father looked unsurprised. "On the other hand, there were thirty-seven civilian casualties by our count, including twenty-seven deaths. And twenty-two Auror casualties, nineteen dead. Half the alley is in ruins, and the other half is barely standing. I was sure to make my mask noticeable, they will know something is different about me. In time they will learn to fear my name."
His father let out a booming laugh at this. Harry had to hold back a flinch, unlike his voice, his laugh was real. It was regal, but endlessly cruel, while it contained unrestrained joy, there was no kindness or love of any sort. There was a reason he laughed very rarely, it truly gave away who he was. His father the man before him may be, but a terroristic Dark Lord he was too.

"Of that I have no doubt, my dearest child. Send Barty and Regulus in. And then retire. You leave at midnight for your first assassination. You will find all you need to know lying on your bed." He dismissed Harry with a casual wave towards the door.

Harry couldn't help but feel a slight anger at this, he was the man's son for Merlin's sake! Not some filthy Death Eater, but he controlled himself, his time for the spotlight would come, one day.

-BREAK-

It was as his father said. All the relevant information had sat on his bed. It undoubtedly came from Snape and Sirius, the target being a middle of the pack Order member, by the name of Dedalus Diggle. The man was closer to fifty than forty, balding, and of a truly horrifying pale color, nearly resembling a ghost. Despite this, he was of pure blood, and came from a modest House. House Diggle no longer held the prestige it did during the First World War, but they still held a seat on the Wizengamot, and were by no means poor.

Diggle, his wife, and his three children (ages three, five, and eighteen), lived in a modest manor near Lancaster. They would be an easy target. The protections around the home were practically non-existent, the Diggle's were far too trusting of their fellow Magicals. Quick, clean, and easy, the whole affair would take less than twenty minutes if all went well. Harry glanced at the clock, sending a patronus to his father, he left the manor with a quiet crack.

As expected, the Diggle Manor was unassuming, but not unimpressive by any means. Harry walked through the wards with ease. They were fickle things, designed to detect only people with hate meant in their business. Harry held no hate for the Diggle family, they were a means to an end. It was almost sad in a way, that such fine purebloods had been taken in by the foolish Order of the Phoenix and the senile old cunt Dumbledore, for they could've been leaders in the New Age of the Magical World. There was no need for them to die, not really. Regardless, they stood in his way, a test of his strength, of his character. Harry was not in the business of failing tests.

The door swung in with a silent alohamora, it was truly pitiful that they left their safety on a lock and a ward that any OWL Runes student could erect. Entering the manor he climbed the stairs quickly, taking the steps two at a time. The old house was surprisingly quiet, the chiming of a clock somewhere being the only noise. Besides the rather loud snoring coming from the third floor.

Harry followed the sound of the snoring until he reached (what he assumed was) the master bedroom. His suspicions were confirmed on entry. In the center of the room sat a large bed, barely visible except by the slight moonlight streaming in through the cracked window. Harry could make out one figure in the bed… wait! One?! Where was the other, and which was missing?

Harry's breathing took a hard edge, already things were going wrong. The sound of a flushing toilet startled him, and he barely managed to mold himself to the wall as a door was thrust open, and a slight woman made her way from the newly discovered bathroom. Harry collected himself briefly as she neared the bed, and without making a sound, a killing curse ripped from his wand, and the woman collapsed to the floor like a puppet with her strings cut.

Diggle started at the sound of his wife hitting the ground, sitting up in bed, he only had time to turn on a lamp, as he was blasted back into his headboard by a second killing curse. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, two down, three left standing.

He nearly shat himself when the door was thrust open and a young woman in naught but her sleepwear burst in, wand held tightly in hand.

"Dad?! Are you okay, I heard someth…" She trailed off as she took in the scene before her. Harry, his own wand in hand, dressed in Death Eater robes and silver mask, standing near her (clearly) dead parents. She let out a slight sob as she ripped a disarming charm at him.

Still stunned by the appearance of a (rather attractive) girl in quite revealing clothing, her spell caught him unprepared, and she deftly caught his wand, before running through the bedroom door, making for the nearest fireplace (Harry assumed).

His brain finally catching up, Harry drew a muggle handgun from his cloak, and tore after her, he couldn't allow her to warn anyone. He caught her as she was no more than two metres from the fireplace, and a single nine millimetre bullet caught her in the back. The girl gasped as she fell, the force of hitting the ground knocking both her wand, and Harry's, loose from her hand. Desperately, she tried to crawl closer to the fireplace, but it was all for naught. Harry summoned his wand from the ground, and with a quick spell, flipped her onto her back, and dragged her to his feet.

She was crying, not unlike the Hogwarts girl had, not even twelve hours ago. He felt an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, just as he had with the girl earlier. It was… pity. Harry didn't like it. It made him weak, he had a job to do, and nothing could come in the way of that.

He kneeled down next to her, and removed his mask. The girl reacted like the Hogwarts girl, she was shocked by his youth. She tried to speak, he silenced her with a finger.

"No," He began, "Don't speak, you'll waste what little time you have left with meaningless words. Instead, listen."

She was, she was sobbing silently now, her eyes staring into his.

"I don't hate you. Just like I didn't hate that girl in Diagon Alley. You are an unfortunate victim, caught in the crossfire of a war your parents caused you to get dragged into. Had it not been for them joining the Order of the Phoenix, you may have never even seen me." Harry sighed, the pity was threatening to take him over, he had to make this quick, or he might not succeed.

He gently grabbed the side of her head, before continuing.

"Know this as you make your way to the great unknown, you did nothing to deserve this. You are merely a means to an end. I'm sorry…"

With those last two words, Harry slammed her head into the wooden floor, knocking her unconscious.

Harry stands, and begins the most dreaded magical words, "Avada Kedav…"

He doesn't finish them for as he says the fifth syllable, nearly twenty spells rip through the front door, showering the sitting room and entrance hall with debris. Harry takes cover behind one of the couches, and fires blindly out the front door, emptying his magazine, and hitting at least one person, if the screamed "Fuck!" is anything to go by.

Berating himself for taking so long, he rips through the anti-apparation wards as wizards and witches stream though the front door. He leaves his mask on the ground, the word "Filsdemort" emblazoned on the forehead of it in fiery letters. The last thing he sees before he passes out is a bright orange spell striking his stomach; the effort of ripping through the wards taking too much of a toll on his magical reserves.

-LILY-

"It's French."

The various small conversations around the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place came to a halt. Sirius gave her a weird look.

"French? What do the Frogs have to do with this new Death Eater?"

Lily takes a deep breath. Everyone in the room has their eyes on her, even Dumbledore. Looking at him, she can see he knows what she's about to say.

"'Filsdemort', it's French. It means 'Son of Death', or literally translated "Death Son." Lily all but whispered. "So is Voldemort, it means "Flight from (or of) Death", I think you can guess what the name of this Death Eater means."

The room was silent, the many witches and wizards didn't know how to comprehend this information. Voldemort himself was bad enough, but him having a son? That was unthinkable.

It was Sirius who broke the silence.

"Wait, you know French?"

Lily almost laughed, almost. Trust Sirius to respond to an incredibly serious (no pun intended) piece of news, with a joke. Moody glared at him.

"Shut up Black, that's not the point."

Sirius glared back, "I'm aware Mad-Eye, just because I make jokes doesn't mean I'm stupid. Now, why the fuck hasn't Snivellus said anything about this? He's supposed to be in The Dark Lord's inner circle, surely he would've known about the man having a son!"

This time, it was James who broke the silence, having just arrived from the Ministry. "The kid is a vicious little shit. Emma Diggle is nearly dead. Had the Order arrived thirty seconds later, regardless of the fact that he was probably preparing to finish her off, the 8 gram chunk of burning metal an inch from her spine would've killed her."

James sat down next to his wife with a heavy sigh, truly, he hated his job sometimes. The Order waited for him to speak again, and he did.

"The Ministry is going spare, they want to know who he is, where he came from, and why he's only just appearing. In less than twenty four hours, he has killed six people, including a Hogwarts student, a respected businessman, two aurors, and two other Ministry workers. The aurors are on red alert, double shifts, double patrols, double everything. Half the Hitwizard squads in the country have been activated, and they are patrolling everywhere. Croaker and the Department of Mysteries are working in doubletime trying to track this kids Magical Signature, with no luck as of yet."

Lily grabbed her husband's hand, and held it close. Days like these made her glad she was a teacher. Dealing with children all day was relatively easy, being a high ranking Dark Wizard catcher? That was another story. Being a member of the Order was enough, with the occasional battle against Death Eaters, but she knew she didn't have the mental strength to do so on a daily basis, like her husband did. But behind the iron wall James presented, was a human being just as susceptible to emotion as she. She had held him as he cried on more than one occasion since he had become an auror, she had seen him throw up in the bathroom after returning home from a long shift, she had seen him rage about the cruelty of the world. She had seen it all. But she had never seen him so, resigned. Beyond tired, he seemed like he was all but ready to give up.

It was Sirius speaking again that brought her back to reality. "He has to be young. Considering his, effectiveness, we would've seen him before if he wasn't. I'm certain his age is the reason for his sudden appearance, the Dark Lord probably only decided recently that he was ready for the front lines."

"Or, maybe he's now proved his worth to Voldemort." Piped up Amos Diggory from the far corner of the room. "That monster is known to be extremely picky when it comes to his innermost circles, it stands to reason that the same would apply to his child. If it is his child."

The Headmaster stroked his long beard in thought, before he threw his hat into the ring.

"I must agree with Sirius. When Tom Riddle attended Hogwarts, he was well known to be a brilliant student, and an exceptional tutor, when you got past the superiority complex. I find it unlikely that his son, who he has likely trained since he was a small child, would be anything less than his father. The skill displayed at the Diagon Alley raid proves this. We will know for sure when Ms. Diggle awakens. For now, go home, hold your family close, and be prepared for the coming weeks. The Wizarding World is truly at war again."

AN: Aight, I hope you enjoyed the early chapter. I'm going to try to stick to posting every 3-4 weeks (most likely on either Tuesday or Thursday), so you can expect the next chapter around Christmas Day, or New Year's Day. If you want to favorite, follow, or review, go for it, I would appreciate that.

Tyrano out