*** So WOW, excited about having REVIEWS. Makes me extremely happy…. And wee bit nervous.

I originally had dedicated a whole series to Vivian and Tom's time in school, but it was sadly murdered on my mom's computer… it literally got so hot (our St. Bernard's hair I guess was plugged up in the fan) and melted the insides. And I just didn't have it in me to try again after I had gotten so far. I still wanted to run with the story, just not the original way I had intended. Now this is going on 6 years since that incident. :/ (Seriously shameful on my part)

In this story: The initial unveiling so to speak between Tom and Vivian, basically the way I had envisioned it is that he had slip her something to weaken her but not completely incapacitate her. He needed his answers and wanted them NOW! Lol Getting into her mind was a little trickery and not sure why. Take the precautions. I think basically a lot of her not fighting back has to do with the fact she has never been powerless. Previously never had to be in such a weaken state, never had a plan blow up in her face with such magnitude. Despite all her training, her humanity wasn't completely snuffed out. She was a person, and she has her flaws. Kind of internal struggle much like Cole and Phoebe in the series. Your evil, but you still love. She was ensnared in Tom's charisma, which basically her fatal mistake in the plan. Can't help who you love, right?

Also Harry and others finding out about Vivian largely had to do with Voldemort not dying in the battle of Hogwarts. Like what the hell? They thought they did everything that Dumbledore wanted. Vivian wasn't born for several years after that event, and still had many, many years before she grew up enough to wreck the original timeline. The whole world, including the underworld couldn't ignore the aftershocks of Voldemort surviving. It's complicated. I don't want to get too much away because I have wrote, actually prewrote all last summer another installment in the series like 85% done and it gives a lot of the answers…and more heartbreak. Which I didn't really want to ruin the surprise… but you'll see soon, next chapter, important things are going down in order to set up the second series.

"Demetrius, if you set that tapestry on fire your father will have to discipline you." Vivian heard her toddler stomp on the ground before unceremoniously plopping down letting out a frustrated sigh. She smiled, she hadn't even opened her eyes to see her boy in the middle of causing trouble, she just knew. Mother's intuition? She sat up, inviting the cool air into the warm comfort of her bedding. The other side of the bed was largely undisturbed, slightly wrinkled by someone sitting on the edge. Had her husband come in here in the middle of the night? Why had he not slept? She tried to flatten the wrinkled fabric. She felt a slight jolt, imagining Voldemort exhaustively lecturing lessors to him. True to her altruistic nature she couldn't help but become worried of his health. Was it really a weakness to have others see him plotting, to see him angry? But really sleeping was a vulnerability now? Or was it deemed a luxury as of late? "Baby come here." Her son fazed into her outstretched arms latching onto some comfort. Another jolt sent Vivian another daydream. Her handsome son was older and had curlier hair. His expression indifferent until her, older herself graced his presence. Much like his father, his face and body was impassive, but his eyes were not. There was a fire in them, and they brought a smile to her face. She shook her head, smirking. Her toddler boy would eventually grow up to be a well-groomed being, but for now, he was all hers. "Time for your lessons."

How many times did she stare at death, and it had meant nothing? Vivian stepped closer examining the work of another. She had to admit the skinning of flesh was a personal favorite, the screams, the deformed, grotesque bodies after the fact. It was like a work of art. Her mother was always a fan of a slow painful death, her father wasn't for the agony but enjoyed putting on a show. Anything to prove again and again that their wills were not to be tested. Vivian blinked several times before shutting the door. She opened it again to make sure her imagination wasn't running wild. She gagged, the smell of rotting flesh was reassuring. She closed the door again, she had to warn someone. Was it the maids, or was it her husband? Of course it wasn't her husband, why would he feel the need to hide the bodies? She wanted to banish the bodies but she needed to show him.

"You!"

"Yes my lady."

"Guard this door until I get back."

She started fazing down the corridors. The flames around her masked her presence and departure. She had to find him, she had to find him now. She found a group of them in a small conference room, he looked displeased with her arrival.

"What are you doing in here? Get out."

"I do not mean to interrupt your meeting. But.." Vivian didn't know if she should alert just him or the table. Guilty parties would feel his rage.

"I do not have time for your petty problems." She narrowed her eyes, as if she had petty problems to speak of.

"I just thought I would let you know about the closet full of bodies."

"What!?" Voldemort's rage filled the room. He fazed right in front of her, anger seeped from his form. "Where is the boy?" Panic filled her eyes, she hadn't even thought, or considered, she quickly screeched.

"Mom."

"Mother." She quickly corrected. She pointed for him stay by her side. She threw up her hand, catching her husbands before it graze her face. "That would be unwise." Her fingers glowed a mild blue, she was tapping into the baby's power.

"You forget the boy's safety again and my fist will be the least of your worries." He threw her hand away from his. "Where are the bodies?" She picked up her son and fazed them towards the guarded closet.

Touching the handle, she almost had a rush of déjà vu. Vivian could envision a woman of similar build throwing the maimed bodies in the closet. All she could imagine was the slender hands opening the door but not the face of the true killer.

"What is your problem now?" Her husband grumbled sounding more irritated than concerned. She shook her head trying to send away the picture, pulling Demetrius closer.

"I think the baby's powers are messing with me. I think we should rest."

"You will wait." Vivian yawned. Leaning against the cool wall closing her eyes.

"If anything I believe a woman is behind this," Vivian whispered before lulling to sleep. Voldemort snapped his attention towards his tired wife. What did she know?

Weeks later…

Vivian tried for ages to get a glimpse of what she had apparently told her husband. It was a woman. For a while her husband had accused her of this stunt, which she did consider for a time. How did she know it was a woman, if not her? But it was unlikely she had been in a blacked out state and had gone on a local murder spree with no recollection, at least in her mind. Her husband on the other hand kept her and her son penned up in one area of the castle almost as punishment for her probable role in the crime. In this time of solitude she had realized the baby possessed a power she occasionally could use, premonition. It was equally fascinating and frustrating. She couldn't force anything she wanted to come to mind, it was just triggered at the oddest of times, to her annoyance.

"Can't the boy and I at least wander around the west wing?"

"NO! You will stay where I can keep an eye on you." Voldemort exploded with rage, he couldn't trust that something would happen to them. Someone was trying to play with the dark lord's patience, quickly he would subdue them. He would make them regret the day they crossed the source.

"You can't keep us cooped in here all day. Demetrius needs fresh air, he needs time." Vivian's voice quickly faded once Voldemort snarled at her. He had a murderous look in his eye, he was hell bent to get to this traitor. One death, two deaths, three deaths a back room full of massacred bodies. One obviously the work of the killing curse, others not as apparent, maybe maimed or mauled to pieces would describe the others. Of course it had to be work of an alliance. A coup against his power. He couldn't take any chances, things had to be done. Threats had to be extinguished immediately. His blood boil, how many times would he have to prove his strength? How would it be no longer questioned? With all the power in the world, was this oblique dominance worth their lives over and over again?

"Time for bed sweetheart." Vivian called to her young son, he was struggling to keep his head up. He yawned in response. She smiled, shaking her head, why did Demetrius fight sleep as much as he does? Vivian sauntered over towards her husband, lightly touching his arm. Voldemort sneered at her, couldn't she see he wasn't to be bothered. He shoved her hand from him. "We are going to lay down in the other room, if you would like to join us later." She quietly turned away, only to get her arm and body wretched back. Her pregnant body stumbled, smacking into the desk Voldemort was scowling over.

"Put the boy to bed and I might have some time for you later." He pulled her face closer smashing his lips onto hers roughly. It was chaste, and harsh. He had managed to crack the skin of her bottom lip. He shoved her again, letting her know she was no longer wanted or needed. He knew that would keep her in line. Pregnancy had made her needy for attention, and as she got bigger he was less inclined to give it to her. Nothing about his wife's current state interested him in the slightest, other than her health. She needed to deliver this next heir in a relative calm state, which was inconvenient in the present situation. He had planning and plotting to do, not coddle a whiny cow. Vivian sighed, fixing her crinkled blouse. She picked her sleeping son up, he gently wrapped his arms around her neck. She quickly looked over her shoulder, seeing Voldemort had looked away. She smiled, and snuggled the young boy close. These were the moments she lived for. She wanted to give her son, soon his brother, all the love and affection in the world. She flicked the door open with ease, and trudged towards her son's bed. It was tucked in a corner away from the one her and Voldemort shared. Her husband was less than enthused to have the boy in the same chamber, but it was for their safety. They all had been sleeping together since the discovery of traitors. Vivian carefully laid her son down, lifting the sheets and blankets close to his chin.

"My little prince, I love you, so much." She sat down, ready to continue on with the story from the night before.

Phoebe watched her daughter from the shadows, her daughter was a kinder soul than she had realized. She observed her tucking her young son in bed, ruffling his hand, curly like his grandfather's. A pang of sadness tightened in her chest, Cole. What had surprised her the most was the small book, she watched her materialize, it was of fairytales. She read her young son to sleep. A smile played out on her lips. Despite everything, just maybe, they had raised her right.

"Is someone there?" Vivian could make out a form lingering in the dark. Her hand glowed a dark blue, someone was here that shouldn't be. "I will kill you before you even blink." Phoebe stepped from the shadows, wearing her own skin. She didn't need her guise any longer. "Mother?"

"Yes, Vivian." Vivian extinguished the magic, tears threatening to fall.

"What are you doing here?" She quietly asked. Phoebe wanted to reach out and touch her panicking daughter, but she refrained from doing so.

"It's going to be okay, it's all going to be okay."

"I don't understand mother. It's not safe here, especially not for you." Vivian kept staring at the door, just waiting for her husband to bust right through.

"Don't worry darling. We'll be gone before he realizes." Vivian stared at her mother confused.

"But, mother."

"It's okay, I'm here to save you, I'm here to save you all."

"Let me just get Demetrius's cloak, I just need…" Vivian paused watching her mother blow a green powder in her direction. "What, what are you…" Vivian quickly fell over, not able to fight the effects of the sleeping dust.

"I'm so sorry, but this is the way it has to be." Phoebe pulled her sleeping daughter close, trying not to knock her stomach into anything or wake the sleeping toddler. She stared at the boy regretfully, he looked so much like his grandfather that it hurt. But he was also his father's son, his horcrux, there was no helping him. Phoebe whispered the spell, the dark room leaving her and her daughter's sight. Soon Voldemort would notice their absence, she couldn't wait any longer.