Lord Voldemort had his red eyes narrowed as the wandmaker that acquainted with the Death Eaters, Corvin Adrick made his rounds at the young ash tree in the Snape house's backyard. He initially wanted to kidnap Garrick Ollivander for the same purpose, but ultimately deciding that the old man that created his first and most valuable wand deserved some mercy.

While watching Adrick performing some inspection spells onto the ash tree, the Dark Lord remembered how his heir, Severus Prince once said that he was interested in wandlore and creating wands, so he deemed the job could be Severus' next (and possibly final) venture.

After all, surely nothing would go wrong with such career, right?

"Yes, this will be a fine tree in a few more years," Adrick mused happily. "Are you planning to have a wand made from it?"

The Dark Lord looked away. "Not me personally, but…"

"Ah, for Mr. Snape then; I-"

"Don't you ever call him that again." He gripped the other man's collars in a flash and snapped, "He's a Prince, and I expect you to refer him as such from now on. Understand?"

Adrick's eyes bulged in terror. "O- Of course, my Lord; I apologize for my blunders," he whimpered.

"You are not to tell this place to anyone," Lord Voldemort hissed. When the wandmaker nodded frantically, he let Adrick go and waved his hand as dismissal to which the man Disapparated with a loud crack. Sighing, he then turned to the barren ash tree.

"If only you hadn't married that brutish Muggle, Eileen Prince," he muttered. "Then you'd still be alive. You could help your son to remember again. But things are too good to be true sometimes, hmm?"

The Dark Lord left to Prince Manor and mumbled his greetings absent-mindedly at the portraits before sitting in the dining room, fingers drumming against the table in slight boredom. As discussed, Severus was at Malfoy Manor for two weeks before staying at his ancestral home for the same period and frankly said, he was surprised that Severus didn't argue much of the decision.

A soft crack entered the air and he glanced to see Libby the house-elf bowing down to him. "Does Master Marvolo want tea?" she asked.

"I suppose."

The house-elf bowed and left to the kitchen while Lord Voldemort examined his other wand, the snakewood that was made by Adrick years ago. He hadn't used it as much as he thought he would even though the wand wood was from his ancestor's own wand, but at the same time it made for a good disguise whenever he had to appear in public.

The Dark Lord flicked the snakewood wand toward the folded newspaper on the fireplace in which the papers zoomed into his hand and he hummed his thanks when his tea arrived before reading the front pages sourly.

It had been months since the last sighting of Albus Dumbledore of course, with the news still making the headlines to this day. Then again, the damned old wizard also possessed a phoenix that could teleport its master everywhere so it was no surprise that the Ministry of Magic hadn't found the man yet.

Lord Voldemort remembered how the old coot used to boast his new phoenix to everyone back in his school years, claiming the mystical bird found his courage worthy after defeating the Dark Lord at the time, Gellert Grindelwald. Now that Dumbledore was missing, he pondered on who would the old man contact on a regular basis when a thought struck his mind.

Surely James Potter would remain in touch with Dumbledore, right? After all, during his trial of Severus' attack, he had said it was upon Dumbledore's orders.

The Dark Lord summoned the crystal orb that was connected to Potter's wedding ring's gemstone and tapped it with his wand to see what the man was up to.

His red eyes widened in horror upon seeing the familiar silhouette of the cliff during his childhood years, where he knowingly first conjured his magic onto Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. And to his shock, Albus Dumbledore was there too.

Had they found his secrets?!

The Dark Lord stood up in haste, gripping his snakewood wand tightly and ready to ambush the two men when a thought popped into his mind.

If he played it right, the numerous defenses he set up in the cave should do their job well. The rough seas, the boat, the Inferi and the dual doses of the Water of Despair would be enough to weaken or stop the two intruders from taking his (fake) heirloom. Better yet, have them erased from the world without anyone ever noticed.

But for now, Lord Voldemort would watch from afar and see how it unfolded.

James Potter pursed his lips at the cold sea waves that swept the underside of the cliff harshly. The cave that they had to enter was quite a distance away with jagged rocks rose from the seabed, ready to strike at them when they were careless. And besides, who would wish to swim in the sea during winter?

"Can't we just fly there?" he asked. "Like, use brooms to get into the cave or something?"

The old wizard beside him, Albus Dumbledore shook his head, "We don't know what will happen. I don't think the Muggles and the Ministry would appreciate it if they see us. And we can't afford to postpone this any longer." Upon seeing his face, the man went on softly, "It's better to be on the safe side, James."

James rolled his eyes but then turned in bewilderment when Dumbledore jumped into the waters and began swimming toward to the gap. Not to be faltered by the wizened warlock, he followed suit but almost jumped out due to the coldness that seeped through his clothes. Still, he wouldn't give up and never felt so glad to feel solid ground again before dragging himself to the rock formations that were akin to stairsteps.

His teeth clattered as he looked around the cave; it was slimy with algae and water dripped from the ceiling every so often he could tell the place would be submerged during high tide. "D- Do you really reckon Voldemort kept one of his secrets here?" he asked, almost had his mahogany wand slipped out of his hand before he used his magic to dry his clothes and make himself warm.

Dumbledore turned to him with a small smile, "Of course. Or have you forgotten our lessons, James?"

"N- No, but… It's just strange for him to use this dark, damp cave."

"Magic leaves traces. And Lord Voldemort – Tom Riddle – has a penchant for things that he deemed important."

"Still… Wouldn't he know we're here?"

"His arrogance that no one will find this place – the one connecting him to the past – will be his downfall."

James watched as Dumbledore performed several spells and followed the man into the second chamber, wincing at the blood sacrifice the old wizard had to do before they walked on the next part of the cave: a large lake that only illuminated by something faintly glowing in the far center of it.

"It's there, isn't it? One of Voldemort's Horcruxes?" he queried. Even with their lit wands, James didn't want to risk another swim.

Dumbledore hummed, "I believe so. But fear not; I think there's a way for us to get there." He pointed at the glow before walking along the lake shore with outstretched hands. James could only observe in wonderment until Dumbledore exclaimed in slight joy and tapped his wand onto something invisible.

The benign ripples in the waters told James it was safe, but he certainly didn't expect to see such a small boat to appear.

"I… I don't think we can fit in there," he said worryingly. Maybe his wife's words really were right. He was still young, why should he go to such crazy adventures with a man that might be senile?

"Don't be fooled by simple appearance, James," Dumbledore said wisely. "After you."

Still skeptical, James gingerly stepped into the boat and winced in fright as it creaked and groaned under his weight, especially when Dumbledore climbed in as well, who then tapped the chains and they sailed to the glowing green light.

The bodies underneath the dark waters didn't dissuade his fears at all.

When they arrived, Dumbledore told him to disembark first and James approached the object that caught their interest. It was a stone casket, with the green liquid in the stone casket swirled hypnotically as if wanting him to drink it all.

Then his mind went blank.

Albus furrowed his brows at the stone casket, the glowing green liquid inside the item swirled around.

He gripped the edges of the casket to see whatever was hidden in it and reeled in shock upon feeling a pricking sensation on his fingers. Frowning, he looked at his hands and saw nothing. Perhaps it was only his paranoia. After all, despite being disappointed with the blood sacrifice Lord Voldemort had implemented at the cave's frontal chamber, he knew the Dark Lord was still full of trickery and curses ready to strike at any moment.

"So, what do we have to do? Drain it?" he heard James ask.

Albus looked back at the green waters. He could only touch the sides of the casket but nothing more.

"Indeed we do, though I'm afraid it is not of the conventional method. Someone has to drink it."

This was the tough part. Albus Dumbledore wished for his fame to return, but knew it would come with a price. And if it came after his death, so be it.

"You will make sure I drink this to the last drop, James."

He looked at the young man, waiting for his argument. Though much to his surprise, James only looked cowed. "Is this the only way?" he squeaked.

"Yes." He conjured a silver goblet and scooped a glassful of the green liquid, slowly raising the cup as if a toast for his inevitable fate before drinking it.

Albus almost dropped his goblet in utmost shock upon feeling the sharp intense burn washed over his body, and wondered what the potion actually was. But he couldn't turn back now, lest Lord Voldemort might catch up to them and all their efforts went in vain. He then took another gulp, and the pain doubled.

Flashes of images ran wild in his mind: the burning revenge to the Muggle boys who did horrific things to his sister, the resentment over his father's imprisonment in Azkaban, his sister being an Obscurial that wreaked havoc in their family house, his desire to see the Muggle world burn, his duty as the eldest son of the Dumbledore family, Gellert Grindelwald's youthful face beaming at him…

When his hands trembled, he felt James' strong hands held his own and slowly fed him the potion. His mouth babbled pleas to stop the terrible pain, for all he knew, James might think he was hallucinating. Still, he mindlessly drank and drank, even as his sight gradually went white and he was not sure if he was truly blinded from seeing – knowing – what had happened. When he heard the scrap of the goblet reaching the bottom part of the casket, Albus couldn't help smiling in joy. This awful burning sensation would be over soon.

"Water…" He needed water, his throat was parched all the sudden. "James… James, where are you?"

Something clutched his arms and Albus only focused on those sensations, until he heard a splash and felt his skin and clothes went wet.

What had happened?

Multiple limbs grabbed hold on him and Albus fought the cold, clammy undead bodies that clung to his body as hard as he could, but he was still weak and blinded from the mysterious potion's administration. His nose and mouth were smothered by various sets of hands and he trashed about in the waters, yelling James Potter's and his phoenix's, Fawkes' name whenever he could.

But before long, his conscience faded and Albus' final thoughts were either James truly wished to help him or had betrayed him.

The cave went silent again minutes later, as if nothing had disturbed its ambience just then.

"Sev!"

"Hello, Draco," Severus smiled as the blond boy squealed out his nickname before tottering toward him, with the boy's mother Narcissa Black-Malfoy sitting in the couch nearby.

The Malfoys were welcoming as always, but sometimes Severus couldn't help wondering if it was on Marvolo's orders or else. The people visiting the manor also called his guardian 'My Lord' and it brought out his curiosity. Though, the one time he said such title to Marvolo earned him a scowl and grimace, signaling that his past self hadn't even uttered it.

Severus' lips twitched in slight pain and kept his breathing from sounding too labored as he lifted Draco onto his lap, wishing that he was not as weak and dependable to other people. His amnesia was already bad enough, but to be led around in his wheelchair… he felt somewhat useless to others.

He faintly heard the mahogany entrance doors were open and was stunned to see Marvolo approaching him, frowning at the man. Hadn't they agreed upon his stay in Malfoy Manor for two weeks?

"You look happy," Severus noted. His guardian's steps were light too, and wondered what could be the occasion.

Marvolo turned to Narcissa who immediately bowed and took Draco from his arms, smiling rather slyly at him the second the Malfoys left the living room, "Yes, I have found quite a cure for you. You won't need the wheelchair as much after we're done."

Severus blinked in utter disbelief. "Really? W- What cure?" he asked giddily.

The other man hummed, red eyes glittering softly. "For you to walk again, that is. I… hadn't found anything regarding your amnesia yet."

Severus looked down; hadn't he thought of it just then? If he could walk again, he could find more clues about his past self without being closely guarded by Marvolo or his associates. He just had to be patient.

So, he smiled. "I- It's alright. I… I'd take it."

Anything to be well and complete again.

The King of Snakes was curling around itself in the stone chamber nearby Prince Manor, yellow eyes drooped upon reminiscing of its life. Being a hatchling that bonded and raised by the great Salazar Slytherin himself, it was the only one that knew the true nature of the wizened wizard's Parseltongue powers.

When it was told to remain hidden in Hogwarts as Slytherin's final weapon, it heeded the great master's words, believing that true descendants of magic could only being in the magical world. Many of the great master's descendants shared his values and even though its current master had only the slightest relation to Slytherin, it followed his stances all the same.

But now that it had to remain hidden in the stone chamber nearby Prince Manor out of fear that it might harm the current master, the basilisk couldn't help feeling that history had repeated itself in a way.

A series of knocks pulled the gigantic serpent out of its thoughts, with a voice calling out from the other side, "Salazar, it's me."

Closing its eyes, the basilisk then rose and slithered toward the entrance doors. "Come in."

It stopped short upon sensing a foreign presence. "Who do you bring?" it hissed.

"Your meal."

The great snake paused. Its current master, Severus Prince often gave it cattle as food, but having a human… there were only two occurrences and even then, both humans were already dead when the house-elf presented the bodies to it.

"…I take that this human is too important to be let alive," it said.

Lord Voldemort didn't refute its words. "You can see him if you want."

The serpent waited for a few seconds before opening its eyes and circled around the possible sacrifice, whose eyes were blindfolded and ears plugged as well having his hands and feet chained. "Who is this human, anyway?" it asked, cocking its head aside in interest.

At that, the master snarled, "James Potter. The one who attacked Severus months ago."

It turned back to the man who moaned weakly with narrowed eyes. "Then I'd be delighted."

"Enjoy your meal." With that, the Dark Lord flicked his wand to remove the chains and left the stone chamber. The second the doors closed shut, the basilisk flicked its tongue out whilst hissing, its yellow eyes glinted in fierce satisfaction.

Yes, it would savor this meal to its fullest.

Lily Evans-Potter bit her lower lip, green eyes focused on the cuckoo clock inside the Potter cottage that neared midnight.

She had argued with her husband to stay at home, if only to celebrate her birthday together. But James told her Albus Dumbledore needed him and that they might have found one of the Dark Lord's weaknesses. What was supposed to be good news turned into a screaming match and in her haste, she shouted at him to leave. That everything wrong in their life could be traced back to the old wizard and if James really wanted to be with him, so be it. The divorce plan was blurted out of her mouth, but it was a possibility in the near future anyway.

"Oh, Harry…" she cried, her hand brushed against the moving photograph of their family together. The James in the picture was tickling their son while her image supported the child. They looked so happy back then and it took only someone's mistakes for it to crumble.

The house felt so empty ever since Harry's death months ago, chalked to James' carelessness in giving a young child a sleeping potion. She used to think Harry was such a quiet boy that he never disturbed them at night but now that she knew why, she felt detested with the man.

James Potter was not a man ready for adulthood. He never was, merely wanting to experience the fun life in his youthful age and riding the popularity of being part of the Order of the Phoenix, the heroes of the wizarding world. Even then, he scrambled to cover her unexpected pregnancy through a marriage that backfired in the end.

Still, she waited, and waited for him so that she wouldn't be alone.

But James never returned home.