Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. This fic is based on 'The Darkness Within' by Kurinoone, Harry's background story as well as Damien belong to her.

A/N: Again, I don't believe it's necessary to read 'The Darkness Within' by Kurinoone to understand this fic, but it will help and it's an amazing story. The second chapter was really hard to write, I kept getting tons of different ideas all day until I finally decided for one. As always, thanks to the awesome Kurinoone for her support and insight. Please leave a review if you can. Updated: 24/10/2019

It's true, we're all a little insane

But it's so clear

Now that I'm unchained

Fear is only in our minds

Taking over all the time

Fear is only in our minds

but it's taking over all the time

You poor sweet innocent thing

Dry your eyes and testify

You know you live to break me

Don't deny sweet sacrifice

Sweet Sacrifice - Evanescence

The sky was crying the night Lily lost her firstborn son.

What else could it have done on a night like that?

She remembered because the sound of the water droplets crashing against the window had Harry gurgling adorably.

Her child smiled when James stepped through the entrance of Godric's Hollow. How did I get so lucky? Thought Lily in that moment. They had been a young couple back then, both barely twenty-three years old, blessed with a healthy and happy baby. James called him his little man.

Little James would've been a better nickname, seeing as Harry had only inherited her eyes, it seemed that absolutely everything else was James's—from his black unruly curls to the beautiful smile that adorned his tiny face.

It was a bit creepy how much he looked like James, but still, he had been a very cute baby. A tiny black-haired beauty.

Lily didn't remember at what point in the night Sirius and Peter arrived, but the next thing she knew, they were there, smiling, laughing and joking. Sirius played with baby Harry in his Animagus form, licking his face affectionately. Not a Godfather, Lily thought to herself, a Dogfather.

Peter had been quiet all night, but Lily hadn't thought much about it at the time. He had always been the quietest of the Marauders. Sometimes, she wondered how he had joined them. Her husband, Sirius and Remus were a lot of things, but quiet was never one of them. Remus had been away that night, the full moon had been close, and he always took his time with his preparations.

Harry was giggling, waving his tiny arms around at Sirius and his antics. Peter was still silent. "Peter are you okay?" she remembered asking him.

If only she had known.

"Yes, I-I had a l-long day. . . that's all," he had replied quietly.

James had joined in at that point, retelling the story about his own day. Lily hadn't even thought to press Peter. Maybe she should have.

Shortly after, she had gone upstairs to place Harry in his cot. It was getting late and presumably, Sirius wanted to discuss Order business. Both him and James were getting paranoid each passing day. That wretched prophesy could only refer to Harry or Neville and none of them knew what that could mean. The power to vanquish the Dark Lord, to end the war. She didn't want her baby to be a hero, she wanted him to be Harry, just Harry. He was barely a year old for Merlin's sake. The war was their responsibility, not Harry's. It didn't matter what anyone else said, it didn't matter what Dumbledore said.

. . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal. . .

A shudder of disgust went through her spine. Equal? Equal to that monster? Her little baby Harry who was barely able to giggle when he was happy, and cry when he was not. Never. Her child was innocent and good, he was much more than that monster could ever be.

For as long as she lived, Lily would remember the moment she realised that something was wrong. It wasn't what she heard, but rather, what she didn't. Her husband and his friends were silent. Sirius was silent, he hadn't shut up since their first year at Hogwarts.

She rushed down the stairs as fast as her feet would carry her, taking out her wand in the process.

James and Sirius unconscious bodies had greeted her, both laid face down across the floor. In her panic, Lily had only seen the growing pool of blood near her husband's head. The broken bottle of firewhiskey laying not too far away hadn't even registered in her mind before she had raced towards her husband.

Peter's voice yelling "Stupefy!" was the last thing she remembered after that.

They had found the tiny body a week later. An unrecognizable horror of blood, bone and few strands dark hair. Lily was unable to tear her eyes away. Her baby was mutilated beyond recognition, only magic was able to identify the blood as Harry's.

The agony in her heart had been a constant companion ever since. Always present, even after sixteen years. It would never fade, and Lily didn't want it to. The pain was all that was left now, it hurt, but as long as the pain was there—and it was always there—Lily knew Harry's memory wouldn't fade.

Pain made it real, made him real. People had told them that they needed to move on, they expected them to grieve and mourn for a time and then act like nothing had happened. Like Harry hadn't existed, like she hadn't held him in her arms and fed him at her breasts.

Lily would give anything to be able to go back. She wanted to scream at herself. "Watch out for the signs you idiot! Peter will betray you!" But at the time, how could she have known.

It was too late.

Sixteen years too late.

"What do you think this is about?"

Lily looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. James was sitting in the chair next to hers, regarding her curiously. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, trying to keep the sleep away.

"Must be something urgent," she felt the drowsiness tugging at her as she stretched her arms and fought a yawn.

Unlike its owner, number twelve Grimmauld Place was dark, gloomy and serious. Hidden behind the Fidelius Charm, the house was invisible to all but a few. Serpent-shaped objects decorated the entire property, even the doorknobs were shaped like a snake's head. There was a wall filled with shrunken heads of past house-elves, she still remembered her bewilderment when she had first seen it. The Black family had truly been Slytherin fanatics for generations, Dark Wizards all around, the prove was all over the place. Lily still felt like an outsider every time there was a meeting. It wasn't hard to see why Sirius hated living here in his youth, but it was the ideal place for the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Lily wanted her bed.

Her head was getting heavier every passing second and her eyes were stinging from the effort to stay awake. Lily's arms were crossed against her chest, her head had found itself resting against them twice — before her husband had shaken her awake. There had to be an emergency of some kind, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have called a meeting this early in the morning. The numbers '4:13AM' hovered above the tip of her husband's wand. James unruly hair looked even messier than usual as a result of being forced out of bed early. He had also never been what you would call 'a morning person', a fact that was not lost on anyone, seeing as he still had on his navy-blue Puddlemere United pyjamas.

Lily gave a small, quiet laugh as the sound of Tonks snores reached her from across the table. It looked like the Potters were not the only ones who weren't particularly fond of mornings. The newbie Auror had fallen asleep atop Moody's left shoulder, her blueberry blue hair clashing against the dark colours of the room. Moody knew better than to wake her up before the meeting started.

It was no secret to anyone that the one-eyed Auror considered Nymphadora to be his favourite student and as such she was entitled to certain privileges, like sleeping before an Order meeting without being yelled 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!'. Nymphadora had been the only Auror trainee ever to pass all of Moody's extensive Auror tests. To this day no one knew exactly how she had managed to pass the stealth part of the examination, being one of—if not THE clumsiest persons in the world.

"Mad-Eye Moody, famous for filling half the cells in Azkaban and inspiring young ladies everywhere to become Aurors," whispered Lily to James who was trying to contain his laughter at the sight of the big bad Auror Moody, feared by dark wizards everywhere. . . being used as a pillow.

The dark wooden door behind Lily creaked opened as Remus entered the meeting room, his faint footsteps echoing. He blinked twice as his eyes took in the image before him, the corner of his lips turned up into a grin as he let out a quiet laugh. Both of Moody's eyes—real and fake—turned to glare at him; somehow, the fine line of drool dripping from Tonks' chin that landed on his trench coat made the glare seem less intimidating than usual.

Lily's gaze shifted to the other occupants of the room. Next to the head of the table sat Professor McGonagall, her black hair hidden by her pointy hat. With the exception of the famously paranoid Auror, Minerva was the one who looked most unfazed by the fact that it was four in the morning. Across from her to the left of James, draped across his chair as if melting, sat—more like slept—Sirius Black. He had dozed off long before Lily and James had arrived at the Headquarters. Like Tonks, his mouth was wide open. Unlike Tonks however, he seemed to be doing his best attempt at breaking his neck backwards.

On the other side of the table, across from Dumbledore's vacant head chair, sat the Weasley family. At least those old enough to be members of the Order. Percy and Charlie had never joined, preferring to spend their time on politics and dragon handling. Regardless, Molly and Arthur's eldest son and heir, William—affectionately nicknamed Bill—had joined the organization long ago, almost as soon as he turned of age. To his right, sat his likely future girlfriend—unless Molly had anything to say about it—Fleur Delacour. The French witch sat with her legs crossed and her arms folded above them, as if carved by a famous renaissance sculptor. A stunning shade of silver blonde hair covering some of her near perfect veela features.

To Bill's other side sat both of his parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley. They were talking to each other in whispers. Lily's gaze lingered on her closest friends for fear of seeing the two empty seats next to them. Seats that had been filled years ago with two of James and Lily's best friends. Friends that had been burned alive in the safety of their home. Now, their legacy was a sixteen-year-old child with the enormous weight of the world on his shoulders.

Lily shook her head to clear her thoughts as a sigh escaped her lips. She took a sip of her coffee, hoping Dumbledore would arrive soon. She had a very stressful day ahead of her. Last night, Damien had joined forces with Fred and George to charm all the chairs in the Burrow. Every time someone sat on them a loud fart noise would be heard across the entire house, the target would even be glued to the chair by a powerful sticky charm, allowing the farts to continue with no end in sight.

Both Molly and Lily had fallen victim to the prank.

Needless to say, her son as well as Molly's twins were now grounded with no Quidditch or flying whatsoever, at least until the new school year began at Hogwarts.

Lily had taken all the brooms in the house, including the old Nimbus 1800 James kept as a family heirloom, and had given them all to Molly who was currently hiding them Merlin knows where. James had knelt down, his hands clasped together, pretending to cry next to Damien, trying to calm his wife down, explaining that it wasn't fair to punish him for a prank Damien had pulled.

Remembering the expressions her husband had made while acting like a kid made Lily's lips turn up into a half smile.

It was moments like those that made the potion mistress ask herself how Harry would have been like, had he not been killed by that monster. She imagined her son, all grown up, playing Quidditch with James, teaching magic to Damien and bickering with her about treating him like kid. She imagined herself, congratulating him when he was inevitably sorted into Gryffindor, teaching him the properties of different potions, awarding him his first house points when he answered a question, running around trying to keep the girls away from him with a stick once he entered his teenage years.

Lily felt her cheeks get wet as a tear started to roll down her face. Her baby would have been sixteen by now.

She wiped it off before anyone could notice. She thought about her long-lost baby all the time, it was nothing new. Regardless, it was something she didn't want anyone else to know, not even James, who would continue to blame himself as it had been Peter—his friend—who had betrayed them, causing the death of their firstborn.

It wouldn't do any good to constantly think about the past. She had a son and a husband, she needed to live in the present for them, as much as she could.

Green flames erupted from the fireplace in that moment, as Albus Dumbledore and Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in front of the Order. Even at four in the morning, Albus Dumbledore looked as he always did, not a single hair out of place in his trademark white beard. His arrival had awakened both Sirius and Tonks as they both tried to hide the fact that they had been in dream land only moments ago.

Lily noticed that almost every member of the Order was here already. Of course, there were others who helped them from time to time, but they were not full-time members of the Order and as such, Dumbledore did not see fit to call them to every meeting. Therefore, the only ones missing were Severus Snape—nicknamed Sev by Lily—and Sturgis Podmore. The straw-coloured haired Auror was known in the Order for his tardiness, always being the last one to show up to every meeting.

Lily sighed and rubbed her bloodshot eyes with both hands in an attempt to stay awake.

"Welcome, I'm afraid Auror Podmore won't be able to join us," stated Albus while taking a sit in the only custom chair at the edge of the table. He then motioned for Kingsley to take a sit as well.

That was when Lily finally saw Kingsley's face. He looked mean, unlike himself. The renowned Auror seemed to be restraining an immeasurable amount anger in his strong features, his eyes were hard as steel as he glared down at the floor, as if it could disappear by his hatred alone. In all the years of knowing him, Lily had never seen him like that. She turned to look at the other Order members, noticing as their expressions grew worried as soon as they spotted the hate on the face of the always calm and collected Auror Kingsley.

"Earlier today the burnt body of Auror Sturgis Podmore was found in his house near Scotland. It was later confirmed that he was not in fact burned alive, but rather, he was killed by the Killing Curse," continued Dumbledore with his gaze lowered.

The moment he finished that sentence the room erupted in cries and loud yells. Fists crashed against the table repeatedly, everyone wanted to know the identity of the killer.

"Silence!" Moody had the voice of a screaming howler, everyone obeyed.

"How is this possible Albus? Podmore's house had every manner of protecting possible minus the Fidelius Charm! How is it someone managed to get inside without alerting us?" asked Mcgonagall, her body was shifted forwards towards her arms, making direct eye contact with her old mentor — begging for some kind of an explanation.

"I can't be sure Minerva. There is more however, there were clear signs of a fight — most of the furniture in the room was completely smashed and one of the windows was broken. None of that, was caused by the fire. Be that as it may, there is one more alarming detail, no wards were tripped. The manor was set on fire after the murder took place. That's what alerted the Ministry of the break in. I'm sure you have all come to the same conclusion, but I'll say it anyway, we might be dealing with the assassin we discussed in our last meeting, the one Voldemort uses to dispose of his own followers," responded Dumbledore looking at each of the member of his Order.

In the last order meeting, they had argued about several Death Eaters who had been murdered. The Order hadn't done the killings and neither had the Ministry as far as they knew.

"But Professor Dumbledore," said Bill, his brows furrowed in confusion. His long ginger hair falling over his scarred face. "Last meeting, we discussed the probability that said assassin even existed. Some of us believed that if we weren't the ones killing those Death Eaters, and it wasn't the Ministry ordering said killing. . . it was possible that there was another secret organization like the Order out there, fighting against You-Know-Who," His eyes shone with the hope that another organization like theirs existed out there.

Lily, like everyone else, turned as one to stare at the headmaster. Dumbledore reclined back on his chair. The twinkling of his eyes was gone.

He sighed a deep, despairing sigh.

"I did not want to say anything of my suspicions in the last meeting without confirmation. But my earlier impressions seem to have been correct. Severus has confirmed my suspicions that all the recently murdered Death Eaters had indeed slighted Voldemort in one way or another, and he wasn't at all concerned with their murders. Sadly, we must accept that there is no other secret Organization fighting him. Voldemort has taken responsibility for these killings. There is more, however, all the murders were performed in the same fashion, with their location being set ablaze afterwards, it is indeed highly likely that we are dealing with the same person. But Tom is—as always—very thorough, the identity of this mystery assassin seems to be a secret kept from even his closest inner circle members," finished Dumbledore.

"Sturgis was no coward. He was a really good fighter. If he faced only one wizard, it would have to be someone extremely talented, otherwise I can't see him losing a fight," said Arthur. A sad smile sat upon his lips, while his arm was wrapped around Molly's shoulders. He had never been particularly close to the now deceased Auror, but they had trained together on several occasions. He had been a good dueler, and an even better man.

"What do you reckon we should do, Albus?" asked Sirius. His words were meant for the Headmaster, but his gaze was shifting across the room, looking at every single member of the Order.

"We don't know anything for sure. However, I believe it would be better to capture this person ourselves. I fear with the way Cornelius is guiding the Ministry, it won't be long before Tom's followers manage to infiltrate it, if they haven't already done so," answered Dumbledore.

As Dumbledore spoke, Lily's eyes were glued to his face, she could tell the headmaster was purposely holding back on something, but she felt it was not her place to call him out on it. She agreed with him, the Ministry could not be trusted if it had been already infiltrated by Voldemort's followers. Besides, the fact that every single location of the killings had been set on fire—even Sturgis' house—did point towards the theory of it being a single assassin who had done it all.

James spoke, after a minute of silence.

"So, what's the plan?"

A figure dashed through the forest, its image blurred by the swift speed at which it moved.

There was just no way for her to escape to safety, her legs ached so much they had begun to shake all the way from her toes to her hips. Her knees would give out any second now and she would collapse. It was impossible, even if by some miracle her attacker somehow lost her trail, she wouldn't be able to get far enough away from him to not get caught. There was nothing familiar about her surroundings, no landmark to show her the way, there were only trees.

Green trees, green grass, green moss.

Daphne cursed under her breath. This had gone long enough. She was out of breath; her hands were shaking, and her legs just couldn't take another step. Her long blond hair blew against her face as a strong breeze of wind swept by.

She leaned back against the biggest tree she could find, and let her head fall against it with a soft thud. It would take more than just a minute to catch her breath. She wiped the thin line of sweat that was running down her face as she tried taking deep breaths. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears doing its best to mute everything around her other than its constant thump thump. She needed to calm herself down, fast. As if hearing her thoughts — and refusing — her heart began to beat even more frantically against her chest, this clearly wasn't going as she hoped it would.

It was over if she didn't find her way back to Malfoy manor in the next couple of minutes. She tried to move forward, her body didn't respond to her commands, the sensation was enough to make her blood run cold. Her gaze shifted downwards, there—wrapped around her body as if they were chains—were several thick branches, sprouting from the enormous tree behind her.

"You still need to work on paying attention to your surroundings," whispered a husky voice in her ear.

She turned her head just in time to see the flickering of a Disillusionment Charm ending. The glass-like residue morphed into the form of her smirking love, his striking green eyes shining with amusement and pride at his victory. His breath was steady, and he did not appear to have a single line of sweat on him—Daphne hadn't expected any.

Her lips lift up into a smile. Even if she had lost this time, she was sure he had enjoyed the chase. "Yeeees Harry—" she said, drawing out the words "—we all know how outclassed the rest of us mortals are against the might of the Heir of Slytherin" finished a breathless Daphne, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she brought her sore body closer to his.

Harry laughed softly; his bright green eyes glued to Daphne's icy blue ones.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly while moving a strand of blonde hair away from her face.

She instantly knew that Harry wasn't talking about the training that they had just done.

"Honestly, I'm feeling great. I know it was my first kill and logic tells me that I should be feeling some kind of remorse or something resembling that. It's just. . . I can't bring myself to feel anything short of disgust as I picture his face. I reckon that I must be the only person in the world to feel that way after doing what I just did," she answered. Her lovely features becoming serious for a moment. "Is it weird, that I'm not crying, that I'm not screaming myself to sleep and constantly having nightmares about it?" Daphne questioned.

"Yes," laughed Harry as he moved from behind her. "But then again, you've never been one for normal," he teased, moving to sit on the grass. His back against a tree.

"The old coot will probably know by now," sighed Daphne. "Do you think he'll make the connection?"

Harry snorted.

"Father is always going on and on about how we should never underestimate our enemy. Bella, on the other hand, is convinced that Dumbledore is so senile, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a first year Gryffindor and Godric Gryffindor himself."

Gryffindors. Her mind began to wander. Technically, Harry had a little brother—a biological brother—a lion, well maybe lion was pushing it, a little cub. Damien Potter. She had never spoken to the kid and the only thing she knew about him was that he would be starting his third year, and that he was a chaser in the Gryffindor's Quidditch team. She would make it a point to learn more about the cub this year. Three years ago, when the kid had appeared in the great hall being a copy of Harry's younger face, if not for his brown hair and hazel eyes, her shock had been so great that Tracy had been forced to kick her under the table to get her out of her trance. She had rushed to tell Lucius about Damien, but his response had been a long explanation on why she shouldn't tell Harry. "It will only hurt him," Lucius had said. Daphne didn't know if she agreed with him, but all the same she had kept her mouth shut.

She bit her lip to stop herself from talking. A change of subject was in order, before she could voice her other thoughts.

"Nervous about next week?" questioned Daphne, as she sat in front of him. Her legs were still twitching. The soreness was only going to get worst.

"Hardly," Harry answered. "After putting up with you every day, being officially presented to the world as the Dark Prince and father's son is child's play," he chuckled as he pulled her into his lap.

Her bottom lip shifted into a pout.

Harry brought their lips closer until they were almost touching. "Don't do that, it makes me want to kiss you."

"Then maybe I should do it more often." Daphne suggested with a coy smile, pulling him into a kiss, her right hand running through the back of his messy hair.

A soft moan escaped her mouth as the kiss escalated. She felt Harry's arms wrapped around her hips while she ran both of her hands through the back of his messy dark hair.

Her magic stirred beneath her skin. It purred when it found his.

No, no, too far.

She pulled away in order to breath, still giving him small kisses.

"Not here,"

"I thought most girls considered the middle of a beautiful woodland to be somewhat romantic. Especially with all these flowers laying around," said Harry, looking down at the ground with a smirk. A sea of purplish blue surrounded them.

"Okay, first of all, these are called bluebells," said Daphne, plucking one of the strange flowers.

"That's purple," He pointed out.

Daphne ignored him.

Harry laughed. "And second?"

"And second, I'm not most girls and you should know that by now,"

"I know," said Harry with the corner of his lips turned upwards. "We should probably get back soon, before Lucius freaks out about us sneaking out. . . again."

"Give him a break," Daphne gave him a pointed look. "He's under a lot of stress."

Harry snorted, looking like he was about to argue with that last point.

Daphne's eyes narrowed.

He sighed in defeat.

"Fine, fine, I'll try."

He pulled himself upright, offering his hand to help her. After a quick spell to clean their clothes, he turned to face her.

"You want me to apparate you back?"

"No, go ahead. I want to try apparating back myself," she answered with a small grin.

Harry smirked as his hands reached out to cup her face. Daphne felt her heart skip a beat as his thumb traced the shape of her lips.

"Be safe," he said, and after placing one last kiss on her forehead, he apparated to Riddle manor with a loud crack.

Daphne stood alone as the sound echoed through the woods. She raised her head to the skies, taking in the beautiful beginnings of the sunset. Darkness began to slowly take over the sky. She stood there, motionless.

The stinging behind her eyes turned into tears that started to roll down her face.

She didn't even try to stop them or wipe them away.

"Mum, Dad" she muttered. "It has finally started."