Paris 1880

Nine years had passed since Damon had first met Henry Potter, and though they had made arrangements to meet up here and there over the years, including Henry's wedding to Elladora, they had for the most part remained in touch through letters. A much easier endeavour when a wizard was involved as they had perfected the art of training birds, primarily owls, to deliver their post. Damon had found it decidedly odd the first few times an owl had tapped on his window carrying a letter from Henry, but he had become used to it after a while.

When Damon had mentioned that he was in Europe and planning to visit Paris next, they had made arrangements to meet up once more and share a meal. Letters were nice but nothing could beat sharing a meal and exchanging their stories in person, plus it gave Damon the chance to see Henry's wife Elladora again as she had been unable to accompany him the last few times they had met. Much like Henry, Elladora had become a firm friend, neither of the Potter's were the kind to judge Damon for his vampiric nature, a refreshing change from most of the magic-users he had interacted with other the years.

The Potters were wonderful people and Damon was in awe of their relationship, the respect, friendship, and love that they shared was what he wanted for himself and Katherine one day. Until that day arrived Damon would try and live his life in such a way as to honour the man who had saved his life and become a firm friend.

They three of them spent the evening enjoying good food and wine and the wonderful friendship they shared as they swapped stories. Damon told them of his travels around the world how he loved seeing new places and meeting new people, but nothing could quite beat his love of New York city. Henry told Damon about his work in the Department of International Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic, how much he was enjoying it and how useful it was in preparing him for a seat on the Wizengamot one day in the future. Elladora told him that she had finally finished her training to become a healer and had accepted a position at St Mungo's Hospital in London, a goal she had been working towards since graduating Hogwarts seven years ago.

The evening was one of the best Damon had had in a while, it was nice to relax with friends in a place that he could be himself without worrying about drawing undue attention. All too soon though it drew to a close and goodbyes were exchanged along with promises on both sides to keep in touch and meet up again soon.

Mystic Falls 1912

Damon had spent the funeral on the edges of the crowd who had gathered to mourn the passing of his nephew Zacariah Salvatore. Damon hadn't known him, but he was still family, so he had chosen to attend the funeral, just as he had done for his half-brother ten years prior. Stefan was present for this one, he hadn't made it to Abraham's funeral, Damon hadn't approached him yet, wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to. For all that it had been fifty years since he had last seen his little brother, he still held a hefty dose of anger towards Stefan for the events surrounding their turning.

Stefan was to blame for Katherine being locked in the tomb and he was also to blame for forcing Damon to complete the transformation into a vampire. He could admit to himself that he had forgiven Stefan for the latter offence, but not for the Katherine, he doubted he would ever forgive Stefan for the part he had played in Katherine's fate. Still, Stefan was his little brother, and a very big part of Damon missed him, missed the relationship they use to have, so, setting aside his anger, he approached.

"Have you been eating the relatives again?"

Not quite a nice hello, but it was better than punching Stefan in a face as a large part of his mind was urging him to.

"Damon."

"It's been a long time brother."

"It's been almost fifty years. I'm surprised you came."

That was a bit rich seeing as Stefan was the one who had missed all of their other relatives funerals.

"And miss the funeral of…? What do you call him, Uncle Zachariah?"

"I see you're still mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you, Stefan? You made me become a vampire and now I walk the world alone drinking other people's blood."

"Any chance you took it out on our nephew Zachariah."

He should have gone with his first instinct and punched Stefan in the face. How dare he be such a self-righteous a**.

"If I'm not mistaken, you are the one who killed our family members. May our father rest in peace."

"I'm not like that anymore, Damon."

"Well congratulations, Stefan. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to live out my eternal existence as far away from you as possible."

Damon turned away and was surprised to see a familiar mess of black hair, though the face beneath it was not the one he was used to but rather a mixture of features that came from his two best friends. Damon hadn't met Fleamont yet, but he'd heard a lot about him from Henry and Elladora. He was about to approach him when Stefan spoke once more.

"Damon, wait. Let's grab a drink, catch up."

Damon wanted to refuse, to keep walking and never see his brother again if he could help it, but that part of him that missed his little brother forced him to turn his head and look back at Stefan.

"I've missed you, brother."

"Sure." Damon answered after a moment, "Why not?"

One drink wouldn't hurt, and he'd be able to meet up with Fleamont after, he doubted the young wizard would leave without speaking to him, not after travelling all this way.

Stefan took him to the travelling fair on the outskirts of town where they obtained a bottle of whiskey to share before proceeding to the entertainment tent, where a female boxer was challenging the men in the crowd to attempt defeating her. She caught Damon's eye for a moment, there was something about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I can teach you how to survive without human blood you know."

Damon's irritation at Stefan began to mount, he never should have agreed to share a drink with him, wouldn't have done if he'd known he would be this pious about the noble path he'd taken.

"You do not get to lecture me on how to live my life. Not anymore. Besides, I've managed to perfect the art of feeding from human's without killing them."

Catch-eat-erase was still Damon's preferred method of feeding, but Elladora and Henry had sent him a set of enchanted bottles that enabled him to store blood without it going bad. Damon used them to supplement his diet and it had been years since he had last killed a human. Irritated beyond belief with Stefan, Damon walked away from him. Time to track down Fleamont Potter and get to know Henry and Elladora's son. The red-head who had been in the boxing ring intercepted him on his way through the tent.

"What's your name?"

"Not interested."

"Well, Mr Not-interested, you seem to me like a gambling man."

"Afraid you have me all wrong."

"Well, that's too bad."

Damon ignored her and walked away, he would speak to Fleamont and then he would leave Mystic falls, he had no desire to remain in this town any longer than he needed to. Fortunately for Damon's piece of mind, Fleamont was waiting for him outside the tent.

"Fleamont Potter," he said holding out his hand to Damon to shake. "And you are Damon Salvatore, my parents have spoken of you a lot, they think very highly of you."

"Likewise. Most of their letters these days are filled with news of you and your accomplishments."

He flushed slightly at the praise before assuming a more solemn expression.

"My condolences on the loss of your nephew. I would have spoken to you at the funeral, but you appeared to be busy with your brother and I didn't want to interrupt."

"I wouldn't have minded if you did. Thank you for your condolences, I never met Zachariah, but he was family, and from all accounts a good man."

"Is there somewhere quieter that we can talk Mr Salvatore? I didn't come here just to meet you, my father sent me, I have information for you that he didn't want to entrust to owl-post. He would have delivered it in person, but my grandfather is very sick and so my father is busy taking over the reins of the family estate."

"Call me Damon, please. Why don't you come with me, I have temporary lodgings on the outskirts of town that should offer us some privacy."

The fair wasn't far from the house Damon was using for his temporary stay in Mystic Falls, one he owned and kept vacant in case he needed it. Once they were settled in the parlour with a drink each, Fleamont pulled a small packet out of his pocket and placed it on the table, a tap of his wand and it became a large bundle of files. Damon eyed it curiously, wondering what it was and why Henry had sent his son to deliver it to him.

"The first time my father met you, you told him that a vampire named Katherine Pierce was your sire."

"I did."

"My father thought the name sounded familiar to him and his been researching on and off for the last forty years, putting together everything he could find about Katherine Pierce and well, this is it." He tapped the top of the files, "He put together as much of her history as he could, she interacted with our world a lot of times, so he was able to gather together a lot of information. Including every confirmed sighting of her from when she was turned in 1492, up until last year when she was spotted in Prague."

Damon was stunned, partly because he had no idea that Henry was doing this for him, but mostly because if Katherine had been spotted in Prague last year, then that meant she wasn't in the tomb. Hadnever been in the tomb. Damon had known Henry long enough to know that he wouldn't tell Damon this unless he was absolutely certain of his facts. Which meant that he had spent the last fifty years mourning the loss of a woman who had walked away from him and never once looked back.

Fleamont pushed the pile of files over to Damon and stood up.

"I'll leave you to read these. Father said you know how to contact him if you need to talk, and mother wanted me to tell you not to be a stranger."

Damon nodded and stood up as well holding his hand out to Fleamont who reached out and shook it.

"Tell Henry I said thank you for everything and tell Ella, that I'll try to come back over to Europe soon and we can have dinner again. It was good to finally meet you."

"I will do, and it was good to meet you to Mr Salvatore, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances."

"Call me Damon, hopefully will meet each other again one day, under better circumstances."

Fleamont nodded and smiled before disappearing with a loud crack. Damon drained the drink that he had left untouched so far before looking at the pile of folders and pouring himself another one. Time to delve into the life of Katherine Pierce.

Damon was so consumed with the information Fleamont had delivered that he spared no thought for Stefan whom he had walked away from, nor why his brother had chosen not to follow him.

New York 1926

Damon was enjoying a drink in the Dragon's Roost, safe in the knowledge that this was one bar that wouldn't be invaded by cops enforcing prohibition. MACUSA, the American magical government, had chosen not to follow the muggle one's laws on alcohol sales, allowing Damon and any other supernatural's in the know, to enjoy a nice drink in a nice bar, without any stress.

Damon had made a point of stopping in at the Dragon's Roost anytime he was in New York, it was a nice bar and the clientele made for interesting people watching. Plus, he always managed to pick up some interesting information from the conversations that occurred whilst he was present. Most of the talk right now centred around someone by the name of Grindelwald who's sudden disappearance was a major topic of conversation and apparently a cause for concern. From what Damon had been able to pick up, Grindelwald was some sort of Dark Wizard, whatever that was, and was wanted for crimes in several countries.

Damon was just about to finish his drink and leave when a familiar man sat down opposite him with a cheeky grin.

"Hello Damon, father told me you favoured this place."

"Hello Monty,"

Damon's lips curled into an answering smile, Fleamont 'Monty' Potter, whilst not as close a friend as Henry and Elladora, was still someone Damon enjoyed spending time with.

"How is the family, Potter? Charlus must be what, two years old now?"

"Two years and just as much of a cheeky terror as every other Potter before him. Mother and Father are doing fine, though I'm sure you know that, and Euphemia is as wonderful as ever."

"Henry said as much in his last letter but it's good to hear. So, what brings you to New York? Surely you didn't come all this way just to see me?"

"No, I'm here as a part of a ministry delegation, mother insisted I check in on you whilst I was over though, she worries about you."

"Ella worries about everyone."

"That's true."

"A ministry delegation? I thought you were too busy with your potions business to get involved with politics. That's what Henry always says anyway."

"I'm here on father's behalf, he's recovering from a bout of flu and requested that I make the trip in his place."

Damon frowned, he knew Henry was no longer the young man he had met in 1971, but he hadn't realised that travel was becoming a problem for him. It was a stark reminder that Henry and Ella wouldn't always be around, one day his friends would pass on and he would remain, an old man with the face of young one, eternal and unchanging within the passage of time. There were things he liked about being a vampire and there were things he hated, losing the people he had come to rely upon was the thing he hated most.

"Is he okay? Perhaps it's time for me to make the trip over to Britian again."

"His recovering well but mother didn't want him to travel until he was fully recovered, but father insisted that a Potter should be with the delegation, that it's too important to miss."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Have mother and father told you anything about Grindelwald?"

Damon shook his head.

"I've heard the name mentioned a few times when I've been in, but Henry and Ella haven't told me anything."

"He's a Dark Lord, fixed on gaining enough power to enslave the muggle world."

Damon frowned and leaned in close as Monty began to tell him all about Gellert Grindelwald, the crimes he had committed, his disappearance, and the whole purpose of the delegation.

Potter Manor 1938

Damon nodded to Monty and Euphemia who were supporting a devastated Elladora, and found himself a seat for the service, he would speak to them later, once the funeral was over. It still didn't feel quite real to Damon, that Henry could be gone, departed from this world, he had after all been a vital part of Damon's life for almost seventy years. He'd known this day would come but he was nowhere near ready for it.

The funeral was like any other funeral Damon had ever attended, though it was the first one that had held any real meaning to him. The celebrant spoke of Henry's life, his love for his family, his work with the ministry and his steadfast commitment to his duties, Damon allowed it to wash over him as he thought back on his memories of Henry, from that first time they'd met in New York city, to the last time he'd seen him, just over a year ago when at Henry and Dora's insistence he had joined them for Christmas.

Every single memory he had of Henry was one of love, laughter and friendship, Henry had been the greatest friend he had ever had and despite the long years that lay ahead of Damon, he didn't believe he had any chance of experiencing a friendship like that again.

When the funeral ended and the wake began, Damon stayed on the edges of the group of mourners as they all sort time to speak with the grieving family. Damon would speak with Ella later, would give his condolences to Fleamont and Euphemia, and their son Charlus. Now though he stood on the outside looking in, a stark reminder of his vampire nature and the loss of one of the few people who had always seen him as a person first and a vampire second.

Poland 1944

Damon using vampire speed to avoid detection by the enemy placed the ward-breakers Charlus had given him in the specified locations around the perimeter of the concentration camp. When Damon had originally signed up to fight for the USA in the war, he'd been expecting to carry a gun and be fighting amongst the humans. He had not expected one of the Colonels to recognise that he was a vampire and assign him to a unit of supernatural's.

Damon hadn't known until he'd been assigned to the unit that the Dark Lord Grindelwald that Monty had once told him about had allied with the German leader Adolf Hitler. Damon's vampire nature and his history with the Potter family made him a prefect addition to the unit that had been formed to fight against Grindelwald as the rest of the Allied forces fought against Hitler. It wasn't what Damon had expected when he'd signed up, but he was more than happy to do it, especially as it enabled him to work with and protect Charlus Potter, Henry's grandson.

The allied forces were working their way across Europe, liberating countries that had been occupied by the Axis powers. Damon's unit was travelling parallel to them, but their focus was in liberating wixen and whatever other supernatural's that had been subjugated by Grindelwald and his followers. This concentration camp was the third one that they'd found, it was an idea that Grindelwald had taken from the Nazi's and twisted until it served his own ends. Witches and Wizards, channelers and wixen, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, elves, and any number of other magical beings had been liberated from the camps and sent to safe havens where they could recover and then either be sent home if possible or given a new place to live.

With the last ward breaker set, Damon swiftly retreated into shadows and pressed down on the button that would send a signal to the rest of the unit that it was go-time. The wards came down instantly as all seven ward-breakers Damon had placed in strategic points around them were initiated simultaneously.

The fight that followed was short and brutal, the orders from their CO was to take down any resistance they encountered with extreme prejudice and given what they had discovered in the previous two camps they'd liberated, none of them had argued. Damon used his speed and his training to snap the necks of every single guard he came into contact with, as did the two other vampire members of the unit. The wixen and the channelers used their magic to great affect and the single shapeshifter on the team, a lion-shifter who wasn't bound to the moon like a werewolf would be used, tooth and claw to rip their enemies apart.

The fight may have been short, but the clean-up afterwards was long, exhausting, and depressing. There was at least three times more in dead bodies than in people saved, mass graves where those who had died had been thrown in and shovelled over with a thin layer of dirt. There were times that Damon marvelled at humanity, at it's boundless nature, ability to innovate, evolve and grow, this was not one of those times. This was one of the times when he saw the deepest depravity, they were capable of and wondered why he even bothered to keep on going, why he didn't just give up and meet the sun, rather than continue to live on.

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."

Damon looked to his left to see Dorea Black, Charlus's fiancée, had come to stand next to him.

"Mahatma Gandhi." He raised his eyebrow, "I thought most wixen avoided muggle society."

"If we disregard what others think and say and do, just because they are different from us, how will we ever become better than we are now?"

"Can we become better? When people do things like this?"

"Injustice never rules forever."

Damon snorted.

"A drowning man will clutch at a straw."

"What we do now echoes in eternity."

"History is never antiquated, because humanity is always fundamentally the same."

"No darkness is so complete as one in which people are too afraid to search for a light."

"I don't recognise that one, who said it?"

"Me. Just now." Dorea arched an elegant eyebrow and fixed him with a haughty look. "The world isn't split into good people and bad people Damon. We all have both light and darkness inside of us, it's the part we choose to act upon that defines who we are and what we send out into world. Don't give up on humanity just yet, after all, it's always darkest before the dawn."

Potter Manor, 1946

Damon once more stood amongst a crowd of mourners with a keen sense of separation from them. Elladora's passing hadn't been quite as much of a shock to the system, she had been quite obviously fading for a while now. Damon had lingered on in Britian after the war had ended, after the unit he had served with had been disbanded. He had frequently visited Potter manor over the past eight months, sitting with Elladora, sometimes in silence, and sometimes reminiscing over old fond memories.

In some ways it was easier than Henry's passing had been, he'd had that time with Elladora at the end, time to say goodbye and accept that she would soon be gone. In other ways it was much harder, Elladora's death was another reminder that the people he loved would age and grow and die, while he remained stagnant. It was a painful blow on the heels of what had been some of the most difficult and heart wrenching years of his life.

A part of Damon yearned to flip the switch in his head and turn it all off, but he knew that doing so would be an insult to the memory of his friends. After all, grief was the price you paid for love.

Whitmore College 1955

Damon carved another line into the wall of his cell, another mark tallying the time he had spent here being poked and prodded, tortured in the name of scientific advancement. He didn't know why he was so determined to commemorate every day he awoke in this wretched place. Perhaps it was because it was the only way he had left to make a mark on the world, a testament to any who found it, Damon Salvatore was here, he had a good run. Or perhaps it was away to keep a tally of the payment he would extract from his captors when he escaped, if he escaped. Or perhaps, as his cellmate often remarked, he was just that bored.

Two and a bit years, twenty-five months, Seven-hundred-and-sixty-eight days, eighteen-thousand-four-hundred-and-thirty-two hours, one-million… Yep, he was definitely bored if he'd been able to work out how many minutes had passed since he'd woken up in this cell. A tortured scream echoed from above his head, boredom sucked, being tortured sucked even more. Dr Whitmore and his Augustine society had a lot to answer for and they would, if Damon could ever find a way out of his cell.

As if in answer to his thoughts a sharp cracking noise sounded on the other side of the bars. Damon bolted upright, her recognised that noise, that was the sound of someone apparating.

"Hello Damon." Dorea Potter stood outside of his cell, wand in hand, face carved into the sharp smile he remembered. "You weren't responding to any of our letters, so we thought we'd come looking for you."

Damon pinched his arm as hard as he could.

"We're really here Damon. Charlus is upstairs dealing with the doctor and helping your friend, Monty's rounding up some Auror's to track down and deal with every single member of this Augustine Society and I came to free you."

"A drowning man will clutch at a straw."

Dorea's lips twitched slightly as she responded.

"What we do now echoes in eternity."

Damon could still remember with absolute clarity the first time she had said those words to him. He looked down at that tally marks he'd made to record his imprisonment. He didn't need scratches in stone to make his mark upon the world, he'd already done so. He had been caught in a spiral of despair and Dorea had pulled him out and reminded him that his every action changed the world. Now here she was again, pulling him out of the darkness and into the light.

"Has the dawn arrived?"

The lock on his cell clicked and the door swung open.

"Dawn is here." Dorea replied. "You don't need to fear the darkness Damon, you carry a light with you wherever you go."

Potter Manor 1979

Another year, another funeral. Fleamont 'Monty' Potter had passed peacefully in his sleep, his funeral was attended by family, friends, and one 140-year-old vampire who was both. Dorea and Charlus stood on either side of Euphemia, Jasmine, their daughter, was held in her mother's arms, watching with quiet solemnity as her grandfather's coffin was lowered into the ground.

Damon's friendship with Monty hadn't had the same closeness as his friendship with Henry and Elladora, there had been an element of separation that had come from his being a contemporary and friend of Monty's parents. Damon still mourned his loss, a sharp grief, a wound on his heart next to the scars left by Henry and Elladora's passing.

Maggie often told him that time healed all wounds. Damon often replied that just because a wound had healed didn't mean there wasn't a mark, a reminder of what had been lost. Grief was an old friend, she walked in step with Damon, ever present, reminding him of what had had lost in the years he had existed upon the earth. Dorea turned her head and caught his eye across the crowd of mourners, she nodded to him, a soft smile, and gentle eyes.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.

Potter Manor 1980

The gardens of Potter Manor had always been beautiful and inviting, Damon could still remember the days he had sat out here with Elladora. Looking over them now he could almost feel her presence next to him, Henry's as well. So strong was their presence that he half expected to hear Henry's laughing reminiscence of some trouble he had gotten into as a younger man, Elladora tutting in fond disapproval as Damon matched him with one of his own tales of mischief.

"I still miss you both, every day."

Almost as soon as Damon spoke, the breeze shifted, bringing with it the slightest scent of Lavendar and whisky. Damon smiled, Lavendar had been Ella's favourite flower, and Henry had always made certain to serve him whisky first, in memory of their first meeting.

"They used to talk about you all the time."

Damon looked over his shoulder to see Charlus coming out of the French doors that opened onto the patio.

"They considered you a part of the family, so do Dorea and I. Thank you for coming Damon."

"I'm sorry for your loss, especially so soon after Monty."

Charlus let out a weary sigh.

"She didn't want to live without him, it was losing father that killed her, not the Dragon Pox."

"She loved him, living with the loss of someone you love is never easy."

"No, it's not."

The two of them stood in companiable silence, grief was a heavy shroud over them, but love was there too, nestled in their hearts.

New York 1990

Damon, Maggie, Enzo, Dorea, and Charlus crowded around the table they'd procured for themselves at the Dragon's Roost. In the thirty-five years that had passed since Dorea and Charlus had rescued Enzo and Damon from Augustine, tracked down Maggie, and reunited her with Enzo, the three vampires and the two wixen had become good friends. Damon still couldn't look at Charlus without feeling his heart clench at the traces of Henry and Elladora that he could see present in their grandson's face. But as the years had passed and the sharp pangs of loss had faded into a dull ache, he had been able to build a friendship with Charlus that was unique from the one he had shared with Henry and Ella. Charlus and Dorea would never replace them in Damon's heart, nor would they want to, but they had managed to carve out a place of their own.

Maggie and Enzo had also carved their own places in Damon's heart, the three vampires had become a family. They had built new lives for themselves out of the wreckage Augustine had left in their wake, ones that allowed them to sit here and enjoy a drink with old friends and new. Sharing stories and laughter, a pang went through Damon as he remembered sitting in this very bar, with Henry, over a hundred years ago. The stories he had shared then hadn't been tinged with laughter, but with sorrow, anger, and hate. Damon had rebuilt himself since then, gaining friends and family that had stood by him though thick and thin, who had fought battles with him, mourned with him, laughed with him.

Damon didn't regret much about the life he had lived so far. He did regret never reaching out to his brother, the anger and resentment he had felt towards Stefan had faded with every year that had passed. Disappearing almost entirely in the wake of learning about Katherine's true nature, traces of it lingered. Traces that had pushed him to walk away from his brother when Stefan had reached out to him in 194, traces that had stopped him from tracking down his little brother and checking up on him.

Now as he looked around the table at the people, he considered to be his family, he realised that any resentment or anger he felt towards Stefan had disappeared entirely. It was time to reach out to his brother, to try and bridge some of the chasm that had developed between them in the years that had passed since their turning in 1864.

Potter Manor 1996

Once more Damon was attending a funeral at Potter Manor. He wasn't alone this time, Enzo, and Maggie, had come with him, they had loved Charlus and Dorea too. Stefan, and Lexi, had chosen to accompany him as well, their relationship was still awkward at times, filled with too much history and distance, but they were trying. Stefan and Lexi hadn't known Charlus and Dorea, but they knew how much the others had loved the couple, how much Damon had loved them, and so they had come to support them through the pain of their loss.

Damon's grief was tainted with anger. Charlus and Dorea hadn't passed quietly in their sleep, they had been murdered. Damon wanted to hunt down the people who had killed his friends and tear them limb from limb, he knew Enzo and Maggie both felt the same way. The only thing stopping him was the need to be there to say goodbye, to offer what little condolences he could to their distraught daughter.

Jasmine Potter, heavily pregnant, stood at the front of the crowd, weeping as her parent's coffins were lowered into the crowd, another Potter couple interred amongst generations of Potters. Damon's gaze trailed across the tombstones that marked Henry and Ella's graves, across Monty and Euphemia's and finally to the newest graves, unmarked as yet, the graves of Dorea and Charlus. Three generations of Potter's that Damon had known, had called friend, had called family, three generations and all that remained was Jasmine and her unborn child.

The service ended and the mourners began to head inside for the wake. Damon separated from the crowd heading for the graves of his two oldest friends. None of the others followed him and Damon was grateful for it, needing a moment alone with his grief.

"I'm sorry Henry, Ella. I should have been here, I should have protected them, like I did before."

"There's nothing you could have done." A soft voice spoke from next to him.

Damon turned and saw that Jasmine had joined him at the graveside if her great-grandparents.

"I'm sorry for your loss Jasmine. Charlus and Dorea were some of the best people I knew, good friends, heroes."

"Yes, they were. It's why they were killed."

"Who did it? Just give me a name, and we'll make sure they face a just punishment for their crime."

Jasmine shook her head softly.

"Death Eaters, no-one knows who, or if they do, they're not saying."

"Death Eaters?"

"Followers of the newest Dark Lord. He's been active for a few years now, gaining power, followers, mum, and dad were killed because they spoke out against him, because they defied him." She placed a hand on her stomach, "He killed my parents, I'm a target now too, so is my daughter, my husband, my friends."

"We'll stay. Enzo, and Maggie, and I, Lexi, and Stefan too, maybe. We'll help you fight; we'll help protect you."

"You can't. He recruited vampires to his side and in response the ministry has been imposing a lot of anti-vampire legislation. If any of you kill a wixen, even if it's in self-defence, they'll execute you for it. Mum and Dad, they would tell me stories about you, about how you met Great-Grandpa Henry, how the two of you became friends, how you fought with them against Grindelwald all those years ago. They loved you, what kind of daughter would I be if I let there friend die protecting me, what kind of mother would I be if I didn't make sure you were around to be a friend to my daughter when she grows up."

"Then come to America, get away from the war, away from the danger, let us keep you safe there."

"I can't. Danger will follow me wherever I go, there was a prophecy, it might apply to my daughter. He will hunt us down no matter what country we're in. I'm going into hiding with Luke, my husband, somewhere safe that no-one will know about, hidden by magic that can't be broken by force."

Jasmine let out a sigh and glanced over to the graves of her parents, a group of young people, about Jasmine's age, were standing there still.

"Mum always used to say that what we do now echoes in eternity. My parents made a choice to stand up to evil and they paid the price. My friends and I made the same choice and now my daughter might pay the price. I will go into hiding, the magic we plan to use will keep us safe, maybe one day, when this is all over, when the war has ended, maybe then I'll come to America, introduce my daughter to the man who has been a friend to our family for 125 years."

"I will look forward to seeing you again and meeting your daughter."

Godric's Hollow 1997

Damon looked down at the graves that held the bodies of Jasmine Potter and Luke Evans, another Potter couple who had been brutally murdered. Another Potter couple that Damon had been unable to save. He had missed the funeral, had heard about their deaths too late to attend, but he had come to say his goodbyes, just as he had said his goodbyes to the three generations of Potter's that had preceded them.

He wasn't sure why they had been buried here, rather than alongside all the other Potters in the cemetery attached to Potter Manor. Maybe Jasmine had requested it for some reason. The crunch of footsteps approached from behind and Damon turned his head to see a young man heading towards him. He had light brown hair and a scarred face, Damon had seen him before, he had been amongst the group of Jasmine's friends at her parents funeral. They hadn't been introduced though, so Damon had no clue what the man's name was, he knew who Damon was though.

"Damon Salvatore?"

Damon nodded.

"I'm Remus Lupin, I was friends with Jasmine and Luke."

"What happened to them?"

"The were murdered, Voldemort murdered them on Halloween night."

"What about their daughter?"

"Maya. They named her Maya Lucinda Potter. She's alive, no-one knows how, but Voldemort tried to kill her as well, but the spell rebounded, destroying him."

"Good, at least his dead. Who has Maya now?"

"Her aunt, Luke's sister, she's the closest family Maya has left."

Damon nodded, he wanted to see her, the last Potter, but he knew that her aunt was unlikely to want a vampire anywhere near her niece. The anti-vampire laws that Jasmine had told him about were still in place and really Damon had no legal right to demand to see the child. He was just an old friend of the family, not a relative. Damon glanced once more at the grave before turning to leave, he needed to go back to America, to spend time with his friends and remind himself that the world wasn't just darkness and cruelty. That there was light and love and life.

New York City 2008

When the doorbell rang it surprised Damon, he wasn't expecting visitors. Maggie and Enzo were celebrating their anniversary with a month-long trip and wouldn't be back for another couple of days, and Stefan and Lexi had left a few days ago for a Bon Jovi concert. Damon didn't know of any other people who would visit him, he preferred to keep his circle of acquaintances small and his circle for friends even smaller these days. A larger circle of friends was just an invitation for grief to come knocking.

It was this that had led Damon to conclude that it was likely a cold-caller. He certainly wasn't expecting it to be a young girl on his doorstep. He definitely wasn't expecting it to be a young girl with a familiar mop of messy curls falling down past her waist. And he absolutely was not expecting a young girl with Potter curls to greet him with the words she uttered when he opened the door.

"Hi, I'm your goddaughter."