A/N: Hiiii, I hope all my lovely readers have been doing well! I've finally updated, and I really hope you all enjoy the new chapter! As always, let me know what you think, I'm always open to constructive criticism!

P.S: Sorry it's a couple days late, I've been making a lot of progress on my original story "The Dollmaker" - it's on wattpad under LovemyRomance - hehe) so it's been a bit difficult switching between writing the worlds and all these characters. I've worked really hard on it, and I'd really appreciate if you could check that out as well if you find yourself bored in between my updates lol

Anyways, ENJOY!

Hogwarts Castle [April 13th]

Hadrian Riddle stormed through the castle halls with a furious tenacity and all the countenance of a vengeful Greek God. His angry magic crackled around him in nearly visible sparks, lashing out at any unfortunate soul that dared to cross his path.

Despite the chaos unfolding all around him, Hadrian paid no mind to the trail of destruction he had left behind in the wake of his determined footsteps. The people scattered throughout the halls seemed to sense his wrath, and out of sheer instinct the crowds parted like the Red Sea to allow him to pass without a fight.

He had just reached the hidden stairwell that led up to the headmaster's office when he felt someone grab his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hadrian," Neville began in a hesitant tone. He caught the angry glint that passed through his friend's eyes, and he quickly removed his hand in a show of surrender. "I– "

Hadrian continued to march up the stairs as though nothing had happened, and Neville settled for reluctantly jogging forward to catch up with him. "Hadrian," He tried again, even as the dark-haired man ignored him with a fierce determination. "You don't have to do this."

When his friend showed no signs of responding, Neville nervously shifted his weight to his other foot. "I just think it's too reckless," He tried to say, "We need to leave before the Ministry sends more backup."

"And I don't give a fuck what you think," Hadrian snapped. He steeled his shoulders back and curled his hand around his wand. "This is personal."

"You don't get to have personal vendettas," Neville retorted, "You're leading a revolution, not squabbling for control of the playground sandbox."

Hadrian whirled around to face him all of a sudden, startling the other man enough to almost lose his footing on the stone staircase. Neville swallowed hard as Hadrian stepped towards him, forcing him to take a step back down to avoid tripping over his own feet. He wasn't proud of the way he practically cowered under Hadrian's intense gaze. He struggled to keep his wits together as Hadrian crept closer, reminding him of an uncaged panther: wild, furious, and most importantly, unpredictable.

"You don't understand, Neville," Hadrian gritted his teeth together as he hissed, "These people ruined my life. For the past ten years, I've had to watch from the shadows as they tore apart families and got away with murder–literally and figuratively–to suit their corrupt little agenda and delusional power plays," He shook his head and chuckled darkly, "If you think I'm going to give up the chance to make Potter feel even a fraction of what I've suffered though–then perhaps you're even more delusional than he is."

"You can make them pay for everything," Neville reassured him, "But not like this. We need time–I need to plan and– "

"I've already made up my mind," Hadrian interrupted his anxious rambling. He raised a brow and challenged, "The only thing you need to decide is whether you're standing with me, or whether you're really stupid enough to try and stop me."

"I–" Neville's gaze darted over as Hadrian walked up to stand in front of the mahogany doors. He cursed under his breath, "Damn it." He rubbed a tired hand over his face and growled, "Fine. Fine! We'll do it your way."

Hadrian fixed him with a triumphant smirk and raised his hands to the door, easily managing to blast it open with a loud BANG!

"When has my loyalty ever been a question," Neville sighed to himself as he followed his friend into the office, enveloped in a cloud of smoke. His eyes teared up slightly from the residue of Hadrian's angry magic, and he resisted the urge to groan at the dramatic display.

When his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the office, he noticed two men sitting near the desk. Though they had both turned to glance at them when Hadrian had blown apart the doorway, and their stiff posture and flushed faces led Neville to believe they had been in an argument of sorts.

"Block the floo," Hadrian ordered, barely raising his voice to avoid attracting more attention.

Neville moved automatically, hurrying to shut down the floo network that connected to the headmaster's fireplace before anyone else in the room could even register what he had done.

A dark-haired man finally stood up from the desk and demanded, "Oi, what's the meaning of this then?"

He wore the traditional dark maroon Auror-issued robes and an angry scowl on his face as he turned to stare at them. His round, wire-rimmed glasses made his face seem unnaturally gaunt as he tapped his foot impatiently against the stone floor.

James Potter, Neville realized with a start.

"Shouldn't you two be in your dormitories?" The other man leaning against the desk spoke up, and Neville easily recognized him as his old DADA professor, Remus Lupin.

"You'd best be heading back, boys," James Potter frowned, "I don't mean to alarm you, but there are Death Eaters loose in the castle."

Neville glanced at Hadrian unsurely out of the corner of his eye. To his shock, his friend burst out laughing. It was a loud, mocking guffaw that left practically everyone in the room confused, himself included.

"This is no laughing matter, Mr. Riddle," Remus Lupin pursed his lips into a thin line. "These Death Eaters will show no hesitancy in cursing a student."

"Oh, I'm well aware," Hadrian finally choked out, unable to conceal the hilarity in his eyes. "That's why I let them in."

Before either of them could even blink, Neville felt a force of magic slam him into the far wall. He let out a soft groan as the breath was completely knocked out of him. He slid against the wall into a small heap on the ground, though he didn't have much time to react as he was forced up into a nearby chair and prickly ropes wrapped themselves around his arms, pinning him down.

"Hadrian, what the hell," He hissed, noticing his friend was similarly tied up beside him. "Why would you say that?"

"Relax," Hadrian rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the high-backed chair, clearly unmoved by their sudden predicament. He crossed his legs and had the audacity to yawn, looking like the very picture of ease despite the ropes that dug into his skin.

James Potter marched up to them with a severe frown curving at his mouth. His voice was eerily calm as he asked, "What did you just say, boy?"

"Can we skip the frankly ineffective intimidation tactics?" Hadrian let out a sigh, remarkably unbothered by the furious expression on the Auror's face. "I don't feel like repeating myself."

"Mr. Riddle," Remus Lupin sprang up from the desk and shook his head placatingly, "Surely you must be mistaken. I appreciate your attempt to protect whoever it is that actually did this but– "

"Dear Merlin," Hadrian groaned. "You lot are denser than I accounted for."

"You can't possibly be admitting to inciting an act of terrorism against your own school, Mr. Riddle," Remus knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "Furthermore, why would you then turn yourself in? Why get yourself captured when you could easily run away with no one the wiser?"

"Yes, Hadrian," Neville gritted out through clenched teeth, "Why would you do that?"

"Because you're going to let me go," Hadrian said very matter-of-factly. He waited patiently as a plethora of emotions flickered across the older wizards faces, ranging from shock to anger to blatant confusion.

"Why would we do that?" James Potter lifted his chin haughtily, "You've clearly shown no remorse for your actions. Explain to me why you think we won't call the Aurors right this second."

"You could," Hadrian shrugged, unconcerned by the bravado of James Potter. His lips curved into a secret smirk, "But then you'll never hear what happened to your son."

"Alexander?" James inhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes at the younger man. "What have you done to him?"

"No, not that son," Hadrian smiled innocently, "The other one. You remember, of course, the one you abandoned all those years ago?"

"Harry," A voice breathed out. Hadrian was surprised to see the name had come from Remus Lupin, rather than the livid Auror standing before him.

He blinked, steeling back his nerves as he nodded. "That's the one. Aren't you at all curious to know where he is?"

"He's dead," James barked, crossing his arms across his chest in a defiant manner. "How dare you bring up his name when you know nothing about my family!"

"Oh, I think I know plenty," Hadrian remarked dryly. "Come now, Mr. Potter. It's not every day someone of your stature discards their son on the porch of some muggles. Did you really think no one would notice?"

"H-How did you know that?" Potter stared at him in disbelief, "Nobody was supposed to know."

"How I know is not the question you should be asking," Hadrian taunted the wizard with nearly glowing green eyes. "I think you should ask how much I know."

"Impossible," Remus Lupin whispered, "The Order–we–"

"Did a pretty shit job of disposing of a toddler, if you ask me," Hadrian snickered. "Some prophecy tells you that your child might become the next Dark Lord, and you don't even double check to make sure he's dead?" He pretended to scoff, "Sounds like a colossal fuck-up, honestly."

Neville fixed his friend with an incredulous glare, silently begging him to shut up.

"James," Remus Lupin spoke quietly, though it could be heard loud and clear in the painfully silent room. "What is he talking about?"

"I-I don't know," James Potter stammered, though his wide eyes betrayed his unease.

"What is he saying?" Lupin demanded to know, glancing back at his friend with a frantic gaze.

"Nothing," The Auror insisted, waving his arms in vehement denial. "He's lying–"

"I'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about," Hadrian cocked his head to the side, "If you let me go, Professor."

"Remus, don't–" James started to warn his friend, but it was already too late. Remus Lupin barely considered the consequences before he crossed the room with a steely resolve, easily reaching down to untie the ropes at his former student's wrists with shaking hands.

Hadrian Riddle maintained the same calm, serene smile on his sharp features as the man untied him from the chair, and then moved to untie Neville as well. It was almost as though he had planned everything all along.

Neville almost jolted up in his seat when he realized that perhaps he had.

"Right then," His former professor's voice was gruff as he began to speak, "What do you know, Mr. Riddle? Speak clearly, you'll find I'm not in the mood for your petty Slytherin mind games tonight."

"Remus, they're clearly just trying to distract us from the Death Eaters destroying the castle!" James cried out, "Can't you see that? We came here to control the riots and protect the students. All he's doing is buying time for his little Death Eater friends!"

"Shut up," Remus snapped. "You've said enough, James. I want to hear what Mr. Riddle has to say now." He turned to glance at his former student and made a polite sound of encouragement.

"My apologies, Professor," Hadrian began in a faux sympathetic tone. "I should have known you played no part in this despicable plot."

"You spoke of the prophecy," Lupin stressed, running a hand through his thin sandy hair. "What do you know about it?"

Hadrian slowly stood up from his chair and tucked his hand into the pocket of his robes, curling his fingers around his wand. He shot a sly look at the Head Auror fuming nearby, practically daring him to attack. "I'm afraid it appears as though you've been misled, Sir. When the Potters abandoned their other son all those years ago, they were not doing it in the hopes of placing their focus on Alexander Potter. In fact, the Chosen One had nothing to do with it, really."

"Then why?" Remus kept his suspicious gaze on his childhood friend, easily catching onto the telltale flicker of guilt that passed through his eyes. His shoulders trembled slightly, Oh James, what have you done?

"They abandoned their son because the Prophecy implied he had the potential to become the Dark Lord in the future," Hadrian revealed with a vicious sneer. "They abandoned him in the hopes that he would die out there."

Neville's eyes widened, and he glanced at the stiff-faced Auror standing in the corner of the room. One glance at him confirmed the truth and Neville was shell-shocked at the revelation. He kept his scowl directed at the elder Potter, even as he slowly stood up from his seat and slid the wand out of the holster at his side.

"Y-You," Remus Lupin had turned a deathly shade of white, as though all the blood had drained from his face. "You lied to me."

"Remus–it wasn't like that," James shook his head, "Albus–he convinced me it was the only way to protect Alexander. It was the only way to protect the rest of our world."

"You sent a child off to his death," Remus whispered, "Your own son, no less!"

"Please, Remus," James Potter held up his hands in an attempt to calm his friend down, "He had the potential to destabilize our entire society. He would have ruined everything."

"He was a child," Remus snarled. A sickly grey pallor crept into his skin, and he paused, "Lily–did she know? Did you lie to her too, James?"

The Auror dropped his gaze to the floor and shook his head. "Albus and I had to feed her the same lie," He admitted as his cheeks colored in shame. "She didn't know."

"Your wife–my friend–died in a prison cell mourning the loss of her son when you knew all along what was going to happen?" Remus shouted at his friend, looking rather aghast. "You tricked us all into your little ploy and–Merlin, James–Harry's death broke her. You let her grieve over Harry for years, all the while knowing you had arranged for his death in the first place!" His hands curled into fists at his side, "You've killed two people with all your lies." Something inside him seemed to break and he staggered back into the wall. His voice sounded rather strangled as he choked out, "We were supposed to be the heroes."

"I did what was required of me," James argued, "I had a duty to the world."

"No, you had a duty to your family," Remus shot back angrily. "You had a duty to your own soul. How can you stand there and justify what you've done?"

"I don't have time for this. We'll discuss this later, Remus," The Auror grunted, straightening his shoulders back and turning to narrow his eyes on the pair of young wizards standing before him. He couldn't believe that they had all but confessed to letting the Death Eaters into the castle, but here they were wasting time still standing around and discussing his own past. He raised his wand at the dark-haired wizard and cried out, "Expellia–"

"Crucio!"

Hadrian barely flinched as a jet of red light shot out from Neville's wand, hitting James Potter square in the chest. The wizard immediately collapsed onto the ground, dropping his wand onto the stone floor with a loud clatter.

Neville stepped closer to the Auror and easily kicked the wand Potter was reaching for to the side. "It's a pity they instate people like you to protect our world," Neville leaned down to spit in his face with a hiss.

"I–I–" Potter began to stutter.

"You what?"

The older wizard let out a violent cough and his thin lips peeled back to reveal a ghost of a smile, "I'd do it again. I'd do anything to protect our world. If it means sacrificing my own son to rid the world of such evil, then so be it."

"That's the unfortunate thing, Sir," Hadrian finally spoke up as he began to cross the room. "You didn't even manage to do that properly. The prophecy has already come to pass."

"Harry," Remus Lupin repeated, "He's alive?"

"Oh, he's far more than alive, Professor," Hadrian Riddle smiled almost angelically, even as he brought his wand up to the other man's throat. "He's already had a few years to reign as the new Dark Lord."

"What?" James Potter gasped from the other side of the room, only to let out a hoarse scream as Neville cast another cruciatus curse.

"Merlin, can you shut up?" Neville grunted, strengthening the power behind his spell and taking far more satisfaction than he probably should have when the older wizard let out a pained cry. "You're making me use a spell I really don't like, the least you could do is suffer in silence like a respectable victim," He complained

Hadrian Riddle ignored his friend and leaned down slightly so he was at eye level with his former professor. There was a playful lilt to his smile as he whispered too quietly for anyone else in the room to hear, "Can you guess where Harry is, Sir?"

Remus Lupin stared at him, and Hadrian felt as though he could pinpoint the exact moment he saw the flash of recognition in his professor's troubled gaze. A slow expression of dread spread across the man's face, and he backed up even further against the wall of the office.

"Why did you tell me all of this?" Remus shuddered, barely able to breathe as Hadrian dug his wand into his throat more forcefully.

"You're an intelligent man, Professor," Hadrian sounded almost amused as he regarded him with a slight smirk, "I'm sure you know exactly why."

Remus closed his eyes and a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face, feeling shockingly cold despite the sweltering heat in the room. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" His heart pounded painfully against his chest as he licked his suddenly dry lips. "I–I know I deserve to die. What I did–even unknowingly–it was unforgiveable," He cursed softly, "I should have spotted Albus's manipulations years ago."

"Oh no, don't do that," Hadrian tsked, shaking his head as though he were scolding an unruly child. "That takes all the fun out of this. I hope you know I'm not doing this to trap you in your own guilt, Sir. I certainly don't need to hear your half-arsed apologies."

Remus glanced up at him, confusion swimming his amber eyes. "Th-Then why?"

Hadrian turned his head at an impossibly slow pace, and Remus followed his gaze to see James thrashing on the floor. A line of blood trickled out of his mouth, but even his tortured screams did nothing to deter Neville from lifting the curse.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hadrian murmured with a sick grin, "I'm doing it to punish him."

Remus sucked in a sharp breath, "Are you going to kill him too?"

Hadrian tilted his head to the side as he assessed the way Neville had no intention of dropping his curse on Potter. "Eventually," Hadrian decided. "But I think I'll make him suffer for a while. He deserves to lose so much more than just his life," He tightened his grip over his own wand and raised his brows, "Starting with his friends, first. Then, his reputation. His career. What's left of his family… "

"You're going to destroy him," Remus whispered.

"Destroy him?" Hadrian laughed. "History is written by the victors, Professor. I intend on erasing his–and the Order's–entire existence."

Remus's eyes widened. They remained that way, even as he heard the perilous words that sent a bright jet of green light to shoot out of the wand pressed into his skin.

His eyes stared back at the world, still unnaturally wide open, still frozen over with absolute horror as he slumped over lifelessly against the wall.

Hadrian Riddle swallowed hard and slipped his wand back inside his robes. He turned to look over at where Neville had finally stopped cursing the Auror and was now spitting insults at him instead.

"Neville," He called out sharply, causing his friend to glance back in his direction. He surveyed the two bodies sprawled out in front of him with a calculating expression.

"Are you going to kill Potter now?" Neville questioned, unable to resist kicking the limp Auror one more time. "He's practically dead, anyways. I say we should do the world a favor and finish him off."

"No," Hadrian pursed his lips, "Not yet."

Neville bit the inside of his cheek, "What do you mean not yet? We almost got turned over to the Aurors because of your daddy issues," He scoffed, "I sincerely hope you've at least thought of another way to handle this situation if you aren't planning on killing him."

"Of course, I have," Hadrian snapped. "I'm not quite done with James Potter. He hasn't suffered nearly enough for my liking."

"What are you going to do?" Neville furrowed his brows, glancing back at the Auror.

"He's insisting on holding onto his twisted delusions of being a hero," Hadrian shrugged, pointing his wand at the man sprawled out on the floor. "Let's see how much more delusional he can get."

"A-Are you going to torture him into insanity?"

"Not completely," Hadrian replied. "Just enough so that everyone else thinks he's lost it."

Hermione Granger stared down at her champagne glass as she stood barefoot in one of the informal parlors in Riddle Manor at three in the morning, wrapped in a fluffy white robe. "I've never toasted to an insurrection before," She remarked in a dry tone.

Several hours after the 'Invasion at Hogwarts' as the media had taken to calling it, the school had shut down and the staff had rounded up the uninjured students and rushed them on a train back home. They had been assured that their belongings would be packed up and sent to their home address, but the priority had been to send all the students away before the swarm of Aurors and press arrived at the castle gates.

The Death Eaters they had left in control of the school had already taken up their respective posts, easily adapting an authoritative tone as they ushered students off to the train and chased out the few Order members that had managed to remain within the castle walls.

Surprisingly, Hadrian had appointed Professor Snape to be the new Headmaster, and the greasy-haired professor had not wasted a single moment in re-instating the wards around the school and cutting off the floo connection from the Ministry.

There was still so much to be done that Hermione found it almost funny the way they were currently laying around in Hadrian's home as though they hadn't just overthrown the key balance of power in their world.

She chugged the sparkling liquid in her glass at the mere thought, suddenly feeling rather overwhelmed by the whole night.

"You might want to slow down, Hermione," Daphne smiled at her from across the room. Her blue eyes were slightly glassy, and her cheeks had flushed a light shade of pink–though Hermione wasn't sure if it was due to the champagne they had all indulged in, or because of way Hadrian had curled her into his chest as they lounged together on the chaise by the window.

"I'm just thinking," Hermione said automatically, setting her empty glass aside for the moment. She moved over to sit on one of the couches, taking a tiny bit of pleasure from shoving aside Draco's feet and shaking him awake from his light snoring.

"H–What?" He mumbled sleepily, not even bothering to open his eyes as he stretched his legs over her lap instead. He snuggled further into the cushions and Hermione couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips at the sight of his mussed white-blond hair.

"What are you thinking about, Granger?" Hadrian raised an eyebrow at her curiously, taking a long sip from the crystal glass in his hands. His girlfriend absentmindedly pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, and Hermione resisted the urge to burst out laughing when her friend nearly choked on his drink.

Hadrian glared at her over the top of Daphne's head, daring her to say anything.

Thankfully for him, Hermione decided to keep her amusement to herself and plastered an innocent look onto her face as she shrugged, "I just think it's rather odd how we practically incited an entire rebellion earlier tonight, and now we're– "

"Lazing around, getting sloshed on a Wednesday?" Hadrian finished for her with a slight grin.

"I think Blaise is the only one drunk here," Hermione pointed out, glancing over at where the Italian that had passed out on the marble floor a few hours earlier. "It feels so strange to go from storming through the castle to this."

"I know, Merlin forbid we actually act our age," He rolled his eyes.

"Is this what people our age do?" Hermione scrunched her brows, deep in thought.

Hadrian opened his mouth as if to respond, but then abruptly closed it. "I don't actually know," He admitted after a beat of silence had passed. "I grew up learning the Dark Arts, dueling Death Eaters, and sitting through my father's meetings. I don't think that's normal, even in the wizarding world."

"Can you imagine a world without this war?" She looked over at him. "What did people even do?"

"Beats me," Hadrian laughed, but there was a certain bitterness to his tone that did not go unnoticed by her. "I reckon the biggest problem in their lives was petty house rivalries or losing too many points on a potions essay."

Hermione bit her lip and glanced down at her hands, avoiding his gaze. "Do you think we're doing the right thing, Hadrian?"

Though she didn't turn to look at him, she was sure his lips had twisted into a deep frown when he whispered, "I don't know. I'd like to think we are."

Hermione swallowed hard. A tense silence settled over them, only to be broken a few moments later by a particularly loud snore from Draco.

"Merlin, how do you sleep with that?" Hadrian grimaced. He shook his head, careful not to move too much to wake Daphne, who had dozed off at some point in the middle of their conversation.

"Easy," Hermione snorted, "I don't."

Hadrian snickered, "I am forever grateful you decided to sit with us on the train all those years ago, Granger. To think, we would've missed out on all your scathing little quips."

"I know you're teasing me, but I actually am grateful," Hermione folded her arms across her chest and conceded, "If it weren't for you all, I probably would be off doing Potter and Weasley's homework right now."

"You are such a Ravenclaw." Hadrian raised his glass to her in a mock toast, "Here's to not exploiting your friend for Transfiguration answers."

"That's it, I'm going to bed," Hermione huffed, making a move to stand up from the couch.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," He apologized, gesturing for her to sit back down. "For what it's worth, I'm relieved you chose our side too. I can only hope we can rebuild this world to your liking."

"To my liking?"

"You're part of the inner circle, Granger," Hadrian leaned his head back to tip the remainder of his drink down his throat. When he turned to look at her, his eyes were blown wide open with exhilaration as he grinned, "You can have whatever you want."

"Even house-elf rights?"

"You can have a fair majority of the things you want," Hadrian corrected himself.

"I'll take it," Hermione smiled. "I suppose staging rebellions and taking down corrupt governments beats being a normal sixteen-year-old if I have some control over the world we build in the aftermath."

"Now you've spoken like a Slytherin."

She made a face at him, despite the warm feeling that curled in her chest at his words. She glanced up abruptly at the clock hanging up on the wall to fight the blush blooming over her skin, "Oh, Merlin. I didn't realize what time it was. It's too late to go to sleep and too early to officially wake up."

He looked over at her with a calculating glint in his eyes and asked out of the blue, "How good is your Imperius?"

She fidgeted slightly under his intense stare and shrugged, "It's decent. Why?"

Hadrian smirked, "Well if neither of us are tired, we might as well get to work, then. We have a lot to do before all the momentum from the Hogwarts attack blows over."

"And suddenly, I'm exhausted," Hermione grinned, even as she began to stand up from her seat. Despite the long night, she felt a spark of energy course through her veins as she thought about throwing herself even further down the dark path she had chosen.

The Greengrass Estates [May 4th]

Severus Snape sat at the rickety metal table that had been shoved into the corner of the room, holding back the sigh that threatened to escape. He kept his dark eyes trained on the thin, red-haired witch that had curled up on the floor across from him, unsure of what to say.

This was how it always went. He would show up to see his former childhood friend, and despite his several attempts at conversation, the woman was no better than a frozen statue at best. He had tried everything from bringing her the pastries she once loved to reading her the old fairytales she used to read every night–but to no avail. The woman remained silent, choosing to spend her entire time staring at the walls instead of appreciating his company.

"Lily," He spoke rather roughly, "I can't keep doing this."

She flinched at the sound of his voice but made no other move to acknowledge his presence.

"It's been months, and you haven't spoken a single word to me," Snape stated with a slight scowl. "Frankly I'm running out of excuses to come here, just to visit you. Portia Greengrass has been rigidly polite every time I've come to accompany Narcissa, but I'm sure even she has wondered why I've taken such an interest in their planning for the wedding." He frowned and added, almost as an afterthought, "Especially given my blatant disdain for Riddle in the past."

There was a long moment of silence, during which Severus began to gather his things to leave once more, when suddenly he heard a soft voice whisper, "Riddle–Hadrian Riddle?"

Snape slowly turned back to face the witch leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. "Yes," He drew out the word carefully, furrowing his brows. "Do you remember him?"

Lily nodded. She curled her legs into her chest and said, "He's my son."

Snape blinked. He opened his mouth as if to correct her, only to change his mind and decide against setting her straight. He was just so relieved that she was finally talking, and he had no intention of doing anything to stop it–even if it meant letting her believe her son was Hadrian Riddle.

"Oh?" He forced out after a few seconds, struggling to keep a neutral face. "You've never mentioned him before."

"I thought he was dead," Lily admitted with a sigh. She glanced up at him then, and Snape was surprised to see her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I thought I had lost him."

Snape pursed his lips into an impossibly thin line. "What makes you say that?"

"Because he told me," Lily hissed. An angry expression flashed across her pixie-like features, and she gritted her teeth together as she said, "He lied to me. He told me Harry was gone. He told me he had been dead for years."

Severus narrowed his eyes, confused by his old friend's disjointed rambling. He raised an eyebrow, "Harry? What are you talking about, Lily? And who's 'he'?"

"Albus, of course," Lily confessed, wiping away the glistening tears that rolled down her cheeks. "He lied to me for years," She lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, "I wanted to kill him, you know."

"You–What?" Snape's eyebrows raised to his hairline in shock. He clamped down on his bewilderment and remarked, "Unfortunately, someone beat you to it. The Aurors say he committed suicide, but with all the chaos happening in the castle at the time, I highly doubt that was the case."

Lily stared straight at him and muttered in a cold tone, "I hope he suffered."

Severus didn't comment, but he silently agreed. He cleared his throat, unable to push the nagging feeling at his mind ever since Lily had started to talk. "Lily," He began slowly, "Do you know where Harry is? Is he alive?"

She closed her eyes, and her shoulders shook lightly as she began to sob, "He hates me. He wants nothing to do with me anymore."

"But he's alive?"

Lily smiled wistfully, and Snape was mildly concerned by her sudden mood swings. "He's getting married, you know. To a beautiful girl," Her lips curved into slight a frown, "She says he doesn't want to see me. He thinks I'm dead–and he's content with that. He's doing fine without me."

"Getting married…" Snape repeated to himself as he leaned back in his uncomfortable chair and started to replay their conversation in his head.

Hadrian Riddle.

He's my son.

I thought I had lost him.

He told me Harry was gone.

He's getting married, you know.

Snape stiffened abruptly in his seat as his mind connected all the dots, and the resulting picture became astonishingly clear to him. He almost choked on his own breath as he stared at the red-haired witch currently crying quietly to herself on the floor.

"Lily," He called out after his heartbeat had calmed down significantly and he was able to string together a complete thought. There was always the possibility his friend had lost her mind during her time in Azkaban, and he was sitting here drawing absurd conclusions from her unintelligent mumbling. But something told him that despite her current state of mind, the witch wasn't too far gone and there had to be some shred of awareness in her piercing green eyes.

He needed a drink.

He sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the impending headache he just knew was coming. "Would you like to see your son again?"

The witch stared up at him, biting her lip in an anxious manner, "But he doesn't want to see me."

"If he wants me to keep my mouth shut, he'll have to clear his schedule, I suppose," Snape declared haughtily. "If you want to see him, Lily, I'll see what I can do."

St. Mungo's Hospital [May 20th]

James Potter awoke to a cool breeze brushing across his shoulders, causing him to sink deeper into the soft pillows that surrounded his body. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into the deep sleep that threatened to consume him, but all he could focus on was a loud beeping sound at his side. Eventually it became so irritating that he was forced to crack an eye open, and he surprised to see a pure white hospital room instead of the deep red walls he had come to associate with his bedroom back home.

He turned his head to the side, unintentionally making eye contact with a petite witch in lime green healer robes as she fiddled with the buttons on a machine connected to his bed. She let out a loud squeak and rushed to send a bright red spark of magic flying out the door.

"Mr. Potter, welcome back," She smiled kindly, moving over to adjust the incline of his bed as he groaned.

"What–Where am I?"

The Mediwitch shot him a sympathetic look, "You're at St. Mungo's, Mr. Potter."

James licked his suddenly dry lips. "And–" His voice cracked as he hurried to ask, "How long have I been here?"

The witch winced, "It's been a little over a month since you were brought in, Sir."

He froze. His hands started to shake slightly as he spat, "Where's my son? Contact him immediately. I need to get out of here at once."

"I'm afraid you still need to stay here for a few more days for observation, Mr. Potter," She shook her head. "You suffered under an extremely powerful cruciatus for an unidentifiable amount of time, and we still have to monitor your condition."

"I'm perfectly fine," James grunted, "Call my son."

The Mediwitch sighed, "That's the other thing, Sir. We haven't been able to reach your son since the Aurors brought you in. All the owls we've sent have been confounded and sent right back with unopened letters." She waved her wand and suddenly conjured up a folded piece of parchment and held it out to him, "This is the only thing he sent you after you were admitted."

James hesitantly unfurled the piece of parchment, staring down at the short message his son had left him with disbelieving eyes.

Dear Dad,

If you're reading this, you must be awake. I'm glad you're okay. I know you must have asked for me, but I have decided to go off on my own for a while. Dumbledore was working on destroying some objects, and I have decided to track the rest of them down.

Ron has accompanied me. We will not be returning in time for school.

Please do not look for us.

Sincerely,

Alexander

"This is ridiculous," James hissed, crumpling the letter in his hands. "Call for Headmaster Dumbledore, then."

"Dumbledore?" The woman furrowed her brows, "He committed suicide the same night you were brought in, Mr. Potter." She lowered her voice to a whisper as though she were revealing a secret, "The Prophet said he had been sick for a very long time, and he finally had enough that night."

"Impossible," James breathed. "He must have been murdered, Albus would never take his own life."

The Mediwitch pursed her lips, "Perhaps you'd like a calming drought, Sir? You've suffered through a great degree of trauma, and that can sometimes cause us to lose track of reality."

"Lose track of–" He sputtered, "Are you calling me crazy, witch?"

"No, no, of course not, Sir," The witch backtracked immediately, eyes darting to the large red button by the door. "I'm simply suggesting you take a few days to recover from your injuries and–"

"Shut up," He cut her off, closing her eyes as he lost himself in his thoughts for a moment. He plastered an innocent expression on his face and requested, "Would you be able to contact Remus Lupin, please?"

"I-Of course, Sir," The witch mumbled as she nodded vigorously, resembling a bobblehead doll of sorts. "I'll go do that right away."

He waited till the witch had reluctantly left him alone, counting to ten for good measure. He felt slightly guilty for sending her off to fulfill a pointless request, but he needed to buy himself some time as he got to work ripping off the various needles and tubes that had been taped into his skin.

Once he had managed to untangle himself from the mess of wires, he hesitantly swung his feet over the side of the bed and pushed himself into a standing position. His knees ached with the residual effects of the cruciatus curse, but it only spurred an even deeper anger inside him as he marched towards the door.

They had killed Remus.

That was the only thought in his head as he staggered through the hospital floor, ducking behind large filing cabinets and wheelchairs to hobble over to the floo. Though his entire body sang with pain, all he could focus on was getting out of there.

He wasn't going to let those two junior Death Eaters get away with this.

He had just curled his hand around the bowl of floo powder in front of the fireplace when he locked eyes with his Mediwitch down the hall. A flicker of panic flashed through her gaze, and he gave her a playful little wave as he dropped the handful of powder onto the floor and shouted, "Ministry of Magic!"

To his shock, instead of the gold-plated atrium he had expected to arrive in, he stepped out of the fireplace in the middle of a dark pub. His brows knit together in confusion, recognizing the location as the sleazy tavern a handful of Ministry officials and Aurors liked to frequent after a long day at work.

He had been sure he had called out The Ministry, but for some reason the floo had spat him out in the crowded pub instead. He felt rather out of place in his loose blue hospital robes and so he had tried to slip into the shadows unnoticed, which in turn only attracted more attention to him. He almost groaned out loud when he felt a heavy arm clap his shoulder, and he reluctantly turned around to a face a portly-faced Ministry official still dressed in his uniform.

"Potter!" The man grinned widely, "I haven't seen you around here in a while," He surveyed the messy hair and wan expression of the man standing before him, "Merlin, James, you look terrible."

"Thanks, Wrigley," James gritted out. "Fantastic to see you, as always."

"Oh, hey now, I didn't mean any offense," His colleague raised his hands in mock surrender. "How've you been?"

"Just peachy," James snorted. He cleared his throat and hurried to ask, "Say, do you happen to know if there's something wrong with the floo network today? I was trying to go to the Ministry but the floo spat me out here instead."

Wrigley shrugged, "Well, of course it wouldn't let you into the Ministry."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The older man scratched his head awkwardly, "Well, I-uh-I mean after your Head Auror badge is revoked, it's hardly proper protocol to still allow you access to the same clearance."

"What?" James repeated, unable to control the way his features tightened minutely. "My title has been revoked?" He shook his head and retorted in a haughty tone, "You must be mistaken, Wrigley. The only one that can remove me from my position is the Minister himself."

"Yeah," Wrigley rolled his eyes. "And whose idea do you think it was?"

"But that's impossible," James Potter frowned, "Fudge would never revoke my position."

Their raised voices had caught the attention of the other patrons in the pub, and James felt something twist deeply in his stomach as a familiar broad-shouldered woman with deep black hair stomped up to greet him with a smirk.

"James Potter," She addressed him with a tight smile, "We were wondering if you'd ever wake up."

"Mary," He acknowledged her presence with a sneer curling at his lip. "What a pleasant surprise."

"That's Captain Anderson to you, Potter," She sniffed at him, discreetly gesturing to the shiny silver Head Auror badge pinned to her robes.

His badge.

He swallowed hard. "So, you're the one they chose to replace me," He sized her up with a cold glare. "I should thank you for keeping my seat warm, but now that I'm back, your help is no longer necessary."

She stared at him for a second and then promptly burst out laughing. James glanced over at Wrigley as if to say, 'She's lost the plot, hasn't she?', only to see the other man crack an amused smile as well. He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for her apparent hilarity to subside, all the while fighting the urge to curse the witch for her disrespect.

"Sorry," She wheezed out, looking anything but. "I shouldn't have laughed, but it was just too funny."

"And what exactly is so funny, Mary?"

"Captain Anderson," She reminded him with a clenched jaw. "You'd do well to respect your superiors, Potter."

"When I see them, I'll be sure to do that," He retorted. "What's this about, then?"

The witch steeled her shoulders back and fixed him with a glare so intense, he almost took a step backwards. "After you landed yourself in the hospital, Fudge decided there needed to be some changes around here."

"Come now, Anderson, if you're going to tell the story, at least do it right," A voice called out, and James turned his head to the side to see the unmistakable red hair of Arthur Weasley. He wasn't quite sure if he was embarrassed or relieved to see the other man.

"James, good to see you back on your feet," Arthur gripped his shoulder with a warm smile. "I'm sure you must be feeling quite disoriented at the moment."

"That's an understatement," He muttered under his breath.

Mary Anderson huffed, "I've told him the truth, Weasley. The Minister wanted to make some changes. And I, for one, am in full support of his actions."

"Of course, you are," Arthur rolled his eyes. "You only stand to benefit from the Minister's brief lapse in judgement."

"It's not a lapse in judgement, I'd say he finally came to his senses. It's high time someone other than members of the Order received recognition," She declared smugly. Her words caused a loud cheer to ring throughout the tavern, and James froze slightly when he realized nearly every person in the pub had been hanging onto their heated argument.

"You know more than anyone that Fudge just needed a scapegoat," Arthur pointed out with a scowl. "Everyone knows what a weak-willed man he is. He needed someone to blame for the attack on Hogwarts, and James was the perfect victim."

"Oh please," Mary scoffed, "He's the reason Remus Lupin is dead. He couldn't even launch an organized protection unit when the castle was first attacked because he wanted to play the hero and declare it a mission for the Order," She waved her hand dismissively, "Times are changing, now. Your reign is over, Potter."

"What are you talking about, Anderson?" He snapped at her. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"Are you that blind?" Mary squinted at him and let out a low chuckle. "Ever since you've stepped into the position of Head Auror, this war has gotten worse. All you and Dumbledore bloody cared about was glory and putting your useless Chosen-One son on a pedestal. You've ignored practically anyone who isn't a part of your elite little group in favor of inflating your own egos. Enough is enough."

James noticed a large number of people in the pub nodding along angrily at her words and he panicked slightly. "Don't get too comfortable in my office, Mary," James hissed, "I'll appeal to the Wizgamont to get my rightful position back, if I have to."

"Good luck with that," Wrigley barked out a sharp laugh from beside him. "Half the members of the Wizgamont have already resigned due to the harsh criticism of the press from the Invasion at Hogwarts. The new appointments to the Wizengamot are already underway, and I highly doubt they would take your side on the issue at hand."

"Why not?" James demanded to know. "Who exactly is stepping into the new seats?"

Wrigley paused to think for a moment before he began to throw out a few names, "Well, the Rosier family has been offered their seat once again. The Nott family, too. Augusta Longbottom was confirmed a few days ago, already. The Greengrass family as well, but I heard Cyrus turned down the offer. We aren't quite sure who would replace him at the moment."

James narrowed his eyes. "The Sacred 28," He inhaled sharply. "They're replacing the seats of power one by one and turning them back over to the old pureblood families."

"It's absolutely ridiculous," Arthur spat in disgust.

"You're far too paranoid, Weasley," Wrigley raised an eyebrow at the flaming-haired man. "I heard even your boy was offered a seat. Haven't you thought about how much that could help his career?"

"My son?" Arthur repeated, sounding as if he were hearing about this for the first time, "Which one?"

"Percy, of course," Mary Anderson interrupted, "He's the only one working in the Ministry, after all."

"You lot are so easily convinced by this bloody act," James growled. "Don't you think it's a little odd how fast they made all these changes? Especially after they were able to move Dumbledore out of the way?" He locked his eyes with the dark-haired witch, "After all, why would they appoint someone like you without an ulterior motive?"

An icy glint appeared in the furious witch's eyes, and she stepped forward into his personal space. "I sincerely hope that wasn't a jab at my muggleborn heritage, Potter," She whispered coldly, "You're so caught up in your old prejudice, you don't even realize that the new Wizgamont was the one to recommend my name in the first place."

She backed away from him and placed a hand on her hip as she regarded his slack-jawed expression. "I told you, the times are changing," She smiled. "I'd recommend you step aside or get used to this new world."