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, belongs to her.

A/N: Short update before we get into the meat of things. As always, I appreciate all the reviews / follows / favorites / constructive criticism. Leave a review and tell me what you think! Many thanks to Asmodeus Stahl for beta reading this chapter!

Time to soldier up
Get ready for war
Pay with sweat and blood

It's gonna take everything you got
It's gonna take everything you got

I'm coming with a vengeance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
I'm coming with a vengeance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
I'm fighting through the trenches (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
There is no place to hide
I'm coming with a vengeance

Vengeance – Neoni

"All this speculating and guessing is completely pointless. It's been two weeks, for Merlin's sake! We ought to be out there, capturing this fucking kid instead of being here gossiping like old women!" Mad-Eye was well known for his temper and no-nonsense attitude, and it appeared that tonight would be no exception.

Molly gasped and Minerva pursed her lips, both taking offense at his comment.

Lily groaned, they had had the same discussion hundreds of times, in one way or another, over the past two weeks.

James sighed. It was late and most members of the Order had gathered at the behest of Dumbledore. Kingsley, McGonagall, and Arthur had been discharged from the hospital a week ago, Sirius and James, only recently.

Exposure to the Cruciatus Curse did not leave minor wounds. His mindscape had been scarred from the experience. He'd woken no less than four times this week screaming his lungs out. The pain kept coming back in his nightmares. Lily was understandably worried about his nightmares, she even made Dreamless Sleep Potions for him to rest and recover. James had no physical scars on his body, and yet, he knew that it would take some time for him to be okay.

He was lucky, yet again. If the rest of the Order hadn't arrived, no doubt he would have sustained fatal injuries.

At that precise moment, Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the chimney. The distinctive emerald flames of Floo Travel vanished slowly, leaving his purple robes intact.

"Alastor that's enough," he said with a small frown.

The room hushed into silence.

Moody turned away with a shrug and began to limp across the room. His normal eye scanned the surroundings while his other eye stayed glued to Dumbledore.

"This is the Order's headquarters Mad-Eye, you can relax a bit. Nothing is going to happen here, at least not while we are under the Fidelius Charm," said Tonks.

Moody turned to scowl at her.

"Have I taught you nothing Nymphadora? CONSTANT VIGILANCE," he barked, and everyone jumped—everyone except Dumbledore.

Tonks shot Mad-Eye a look but didn't say anything.

Moody grumbled.

The Order's headquarters, number twelve Grimmauld Place, had been host to countless Order meetings since the appearance of the Dark Prince, his kidnapping of Ellie Yaxley, and his victory over almost every single member of the Order. Tensions were running high. Many Order members had missed most of those meetings, busy recovering from their wounds and exhaustion.

Dumbledore had also been conspicuously absent. Most assumed that he was busy trying to find out if the Dark Prince was truly who he claimed to be and trying to figure out what kind of twisted and foul magic he'd used to overwhelm a great number of them.

Dumbledore sat down at the foot of the table, and the entire room hushed into silence, waiting for what he had to say.

"I'll get straight to it then. For those of you who heard rumours or who didn't believe it, it's confirmed, the wizard known as the Dark Prince is indeed Voldemort's son," he stated, his eyes straying towards James, Sirius, Arthur, and McGonagall.

"How is this possible?" asked McGonagall. "Shouldn't we have known about him years ago? Judging by the sound of his voice, the boy is almost a man. That's a long time to hide someone,"

"There was some gossip—" Snape said, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

"There were rumours, but I'm sad to say I never really gave them any serious thought. There are an infinite number of made-up stories regarding Voldemort and his inner circle. The Dark Prince was at most considered a myth," he sighed.

"He is no myth," muttered Sirius, showing that he was still wearing an arm sling to hold his recently grown bones steady in a horizontal position.

The bones in Sirius's arm had taken days to regrow. Madam Pomfrey had been quite stunned by the magnitude of the damage the Dark Prince's Bone-Shattering Curse had inflicted on him. It was like his entire bone had been ground into powder. Some fragments of bone had lodged themselves all the way into his spinal column and removing them was an extremely painful process and had required several days of carefully monitored rest to recover. He still had to use an arm sling for two more weeks.

"Severus manage to find out that some Death Eaters had seen kid toys laying around the manor many years ago and many more have seen a cloaked figure wearing a silver mask, entering and exiting Riddle Manor," said Dumbledore.

"I don't understand," said Lily in a quiet, gentle voice. "Why reveal him now, if they have kept him a secret from everyone, even the Death Eaters."

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon-shaped glasses.

"It could be that Tom wanted to protect him by keeping him a secret. He might have been worried that people would target his heir, especially if he was a young and defenseless child. I imagine some of Tom's own followers would try to get rid of him. But now that he is almost a grown man and capable of performing amazing feats of magic, revealing him makes more sense," he replied.

Arthur Weasley sighed. "I understand You-Know-Who having an heir, as we all have to die at some point. Even him," He didn't notice how Dumbledore's eyebrows curled up into a frown at that remark. "What I'd like to know is how in the world is he so powerful at such a young age? And who is his mother?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Moody growled. "We captured Mia Yaxley, who hasn't said anything since she was arrested because of those damn lawyers of hers. She has a little kid, an 8-year-old named Ellie Yaxley, and the Dark Prince just happens to be at her house out of nowhere, not even an hour after we arrest her husband for being a Death Eater? Am I the only one who can put two and two together?! It's obvious who the mother of Voldemort's son is. What if the Dark Prince was there to save his little sister and his mother?"

Sirius gave an involuntary shudder. "Isn't she married? To Yaxley, hence her last name?"

"That's crazy," muttered Tonks.

"IS IT?" Moody growled, twisting his heavily scarred face into a grimace. "Any of the Death Eater wives could be the mother—Antonia Dolohov, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, to name just a few. It would be the highest honor for them and their twisted families, to have the Dark Lord's heir. Oh, I can imagine them groveling at his feet for the privilege of birthing his child,"

Lily's lips curled, and she turned her nose in disgust.

Sirius felt vile rise up to his throat. He tasted it on his lips as his brain processed the last name, his own cousin, possible mother to Voldemort's son. Mother of the teenager who had sent him—a grown man—to St Mungo's Hospital, who had defeated them using the foulest of magic—so vile, Dumbledore himself could not identify it—and he had gotten the better of them, not once, but twice.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer, and he rolled his eyes in disgust. His face was framed between curtains of greasy black hair.

"Yes, I'm sure your mind is very. . . imaginative Mad-Eye, but perhaps we ought to focus on what we are capable of doing to actually capture the man—" Snape stressed the word. "—who has already made you all look like untrained children at a duelling club."

Moody squinted his good eye. He pushed an empty chair roughly aside and marched around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand.

"Don't you take that cheeky tone with me, Snape. I'm not one of your students, and I've already warned you that I'm nowhere near as naive as your masters," Moody spat out the words, his face barely an inch from his. "We have no use for a pet Death Eater who conveniently forgets about important things like the Dark Prince existence. I don't give a hippogriff's ass if Albus thinks you are reformed—"

"ALASTOR," shouted Dumbledore firmly.

Moody pursed his lips, but he backed down, nonetheless. His bright blue magical eye now flickered between Dumbledore and Snape.

Snape did not so much as blink. "As I've told you before, Mad-Eye. The Dark Prince existence was a top guarded secret, only those closest to the Dark Lord knew of him."

"Yes, yes, a family secret, how very touching," muttered Mad-Eye sarcastically.

James cleared his sore throat and fidgeted with his wand.

"Do we even know his name?" He asked.

"Not at the moment," Dumbledore replied. "Everyone who knows about him refers to him as Dark Prince."

Snape turned to regard the room.

"Over the last four years, the Dark Prince has been carrying out missions assigned by the Dark Lord himself," he spoke in a low voice, but, except for Moody, the whole room listened attentively to his every word as if they were students in a potions class. "Many Death Eaters believe him to be the one tasked with annihilating anyone who betrays their master."

Mad-Eye leaned upon his long staff, looking even more serious than usual.

"That power Albus. I'm telling you, in all my years fighting dark wizards, I have never ever seen anything like it. At one point it even felt like old Voldy himself was inside the room with us." The dull clunk of his metallic leg echoed around the room.

Besides Moody, Professor McGonagall was looking slightly disturbed, as if remembering the fight. "It was without a doubt one of the most disturbing experiences of my life, Albus. That all-consuming darkness was disconcerting at the very least, and that strange ice. . . frankly, it was terrifying. I don't know what would have happened had you not arrived in time to save us, or if Fawkes wasn't there with you, to think that it took something as powerful as phoenix fire to finally destroy that cursed ice." Minerva shuddered.

Albus Dumbledore looked down to his feet, a sad looked crossed his face as he scratched his long beard absently. It had taken multiple minutes to free every order member from the suffocation darkness and the strange ice that surrounded them. No spell had been successful until Fawkes had ignited and that had finally melted all the ice.

"Indeed. I know of no magic capable of doing that. Still, to learn of one so young and already so tainted by darkness. And for him to be powerful enough to defeat even you Alastor, old friend. It's truly a tragedy. Tom was always an extremely talented wizard, if only he had used that talent for good, he could have been a great man. To see that his son is following in his footsteps. Well, it makes an old man like me think of the many terrible mistakes I've made in the past," said Dumbledore smiling sadly.

Mad-Eye grumbled under his breath.

"We are not going to be able to do a single bloody thing against that power unless we do something completely unexpected," growled Moody. "We need to capture and question him. Whatever it takes! He has proven to be too powerful already. Wizarding Britain can't afford to wait and fight TWO Voldemort's. Even if we somehow manage to capture him, we should kill him before he becomes even more powerful. I say we give him to the dementors."

Snape nodded. "As it so happens, I agree with Mad-Eye. We should kill him if given the chance," he was gazing at Dumbledore as if trying to convey some type of hidden message. "That's the problem with boys, they grow up to become men."

James seethed with rage. He felt a deep, unexplainable, and almost instinctive anger come over him. His hands were so tightly clenched that his knuckles were turning white.

"Fantastic," muttered James bitterly, looking around the table. "Really brilliant. Yeah, so you and Snivellus," Lily shot him a glare. "—are suggesting we should just try to kill him outright, he is a teenager, a boy—"

Sirius stood up, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the idea of murdering someone so young.

"I agree with Prongs. It doesn't matter how powerful he is, or who his parents are, he is still only a teenager. Your parents do not determine who you are."

The room took a second to take it in. Of course, Sirius would feel some kind of connection with the Dark Prince. Sirius had grown up as a member of the Black family, with their twisted values of blood purity and incest. He had not known anything else until he had met James in Hogwarts. Sirius hated being judged by the sins of his family. Sometimes he wondered, if he hadn't met James would he have become a Death Eater, a blood purist?

"He is a murderer, Black, but you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Snape scoffed, his eyes glinting.

Dumbledore stood up so quickly that he was a blur to the eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"That's enough, Severus!" he said, his voice full of authority. He turned away from Snape. "I think you are misunderstanding Alastor; James, Sirius," said Dumbledore, standing up straight. "Something unexpected. Someone unexpected. Someone like me. When the Dark Prince makes his next appearance, I will be there to fight him."

Multiple eyes shot towards Dumbledore at his declaration.

Dumbledore continued. "Striking down a boy, regardless of who his parents are or what his last name is. . . Forgive me, but I can't think of anything more horrendous. Those of you who are Aurors took an oath to protect the citizens of Magical Britain, to protect its children, its future. We all, regardless of our profession, should do our best to uphold those vows. If we try to kill him just to stop him from becoming the next Voldemort, then we are no better than the Death Eaters," he paused and looked at everyone. "I will ensure that the Dark Prince is captured. We may even be able to use him as bait to finally defeat Voldemort, but we will NOT kill him."

The finality in his voice made Moody grumble something about Dumbledore being too nice, but whatever defiance he held faltered when his eyes met the headmaster's.

Tonks perked up.

"Use him as bait?" she asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, looking straight at her. "Voldemort will try to get his son back if he knows that the Dark Prince is captured but alive and hasn't been given the Dementors Kiss. We can use that to plan an ambush and get him into a confrontation with myself and Neville."

James groaned. He hated the weight that had been put on the shoulder of Frank and Alice's son. Neville was good for his age, but he wasn't mind-blowing or extraordinary. If James thought about it logically, a confrontation with both Dumbledore and Neville at the same time could be the only way to destroy Voldemort, if the prophesy about Neville being the chosen one after all.

James doubted it.

'The Chosen One' was just a silly title, an empty hope, he had learned that the hard way, the day his little man—his baby Harry—had been killed. The prophesy had implied that either Harry or Neville would be the ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. And since Harry was long dead, Neville had been given special training since before he could even hold a wand.

James had no doubts that Neville would get killed in ten seconds flat or less if he went up against the Dark Prince in a one-on-one fight, he didn't even want to think about what would happen to Neville if he fought Lord Voldemort himself.

The boy was nowhere near ready for the responsibility that had been dropped on his shoulders.

"Fleur, what do you think?" whispered a heavily bandaged Bill Weasley. Miraculously, his attacker had thrown him so far that the explosion had not done any permanent damage to his body. He had woken up in St Mungo's Hospital covered in dust, dizzy, with no memory of the explosion and full of low-level burns all over his torso and several small cuts on his arms.

Fleur Delacour almost jump, startled. She blinked rapidly and turned her face away.

"Sure, whatever they said."

Bill's eyebrows curled into a frown, and he stepped closer to her, his arms holding her in a loose embrace.

Fleur gave a small flinch at his closeness. She had been the one most affected after their encounter with the Dark Prince. No one had asked what exactly had happened, but they had found her giggling like a schoolgirl, her eyes unfocused and glazed, fingers toying with a strand of her silver hair.

Unsurprisingly, no one had been brave enough to ask outright. Only Bill and Fleur had refused to answer him.

Dumbledore gave a deep and heavy sigh.

"It's imperative that we act to capture him as soon as possible, we may have some competition."

Puzzled, the whole room turned to stare at Dumbledore.

"Competition, professor?" asked Bill, looking alarmed.

Dumbledore traced his fingers on the table. "Aurors Liam McArthur and Nathan Simmons were with you the first time you fought the Dark Prince," as he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on James, Kingsley, and Sirius.

James looked down at his feet.

Dumbledore continued. "Alastor, it was your quick thinking in calling Auror reinforcements and alerting the Order that saved you, James, and Sirius the last time, but those all those Aurors ought to have already reported to the Minister. The only reason an article hasn't been published in the Daily Prophet is that the Minister doesn't want to alarm the masses needlessly. It's very likely that Cornelius will move to capture the Dark Prince. If he is successful, there is no doubt in my mind that he will sentence the boy to a Dementor's Kiss," he turned to look at everyone. "The Order must get to him first."

Moody growled. His nose wrinkled in distaste as if smelling something rotten.

"Why must we bother with him? Let the Ministry have the brat! There's no need for us to keep him alive. I say we let the Ministry have him," Mad-Eye argued.

Snape looked like he wanted to wince at something.

Dumbledore paused, turning from Snape to Mad-Eye. "Now that Tom has officially revealed his heir, Severus was able to get some disturbing details of some of the missions the Dark Prince has been tasked with in the past. . . The Dark Prince is known for setting fire to the homes of his victims after he kills them, it's become almost like his calling card. A sort of twisted imitation of his father's Dark Mark," Dumbledore halted, he opened his mouth silently as if trying to express words that were stuck in his throat. "This led me to believe that the Dark Prince was the one who tortured and killed Frank and Alice Longbottom," the headmaster wiped his eyes as a small tear dropped down his cheek. "Severus, as well as some of our other spies, were able to confirm this. Unlike his other victims, Frank and Alice were very much alive when the fire began, with no wand or anything else to defend themselves. . . they were. . . burned alive," Dumbledore broke off, unable to go on.

The whole room collectively gasped in horror. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been dear friends of many of them. They had been members of the Order and their murder had been a shocking and nauseating event. Being burned alive. . . immolation. . . it was truly a cruel and horrible death.

Lily grabbed the collar of his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. He ran his fingers through her hair in an attempt to console her. They had known the method used to murder their friends, but to find out who exactly had been behind it. . . The Dark Prince must have been a boy at that time, probably the same age Damien was right now.

And yet, James's insides churned with indignation. A desire for revenge, for justice, stirred in him. Frank and Alice had been good people, great wizards, and amazing friends. They did not deserve to suffer such cruelty.

His own eyes burned with unspilled tears, and he shook his head in an effort to hold them back. Shock raced through James's body, one of his best friends, killed by the Dark Prince. He thought of those Slytherin green eyes as they glared at Jason Riley. The green light of the Killing Curse. His cold voice. His lack of regret. Was this boy even capable of being saved?

As he watched the various reactions of the Order members, Dumbledore looked down sadly. "I'm not implying that we should take our vengeance on Voldemort's son, but as Frank and Alice's friends I believe it's our responsibility to capture him and find out what really happened and why they were murdered in such a brutal manner," he clarified.

A wave of agreement coursed through the room.

For the next couple of hours, the tension was palpable as they discussed various strategies and scenarios in which they could capture the Dark Prince. The news that the Dark Prince was the one behind the murder of Frank and Alice Longbottom had shaken every single member to the core.

Nonetheless, when an urgent knock came from the door, everyone turned.

"MUM," came the voice of an out of breath Ron Weasley from behind the wooden door.

"So sorry," muttered Mrs. Weasley. She blushed and wiped the tears of her eyes, the red tinting her cheeks a rosy colour, a shade lighter than her hair. "Excuse me for a moment."

Molly opened the wooden door outraged and stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Not that it mattered since everyone could still hear the yelling.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT INTERRUPTING THESE MEETINGS. YOU ARE NOT YET OFF AGE."

"BUT MUM—"

"NOT ANOTHER WORD—"

"IT'S ALL OVER THE WIZARDING RADIO, MUM. THEY'VE FOUND A BODY IN DIAGON ALLEY! SOMEONE HANGED THEM!"