Opportunities Abound

May 1944

In many ways, it felt as though it had taken forever for this day to arrive. Between planning and assembling a rather extensive guest list, the wedding of Charlus and Dorea had taken much longer to arrange than Harry and Minerva's rather rushed affair.

"Do you wish we had a day like this?" Harry asked as he and Minerva were taking a turn around the dancefloor.

The heavily pregnant woman shook her head.

"No, it would have been too much for me," she assured him. "Look how many people are here."

Harry couldn't forget if he wanted to.

For the most part, he had avoided going out in public, and as a result he had spent much of the day being inundated by those that wished to impose themselves upon him.

He didn't mind those that wished to offer their humble gratitude for all he had done, but the sucking up became tiring rather quickly from those that only wished to be associated with him for their own gain.

Harry would never pretend to be politically astute in comparison, but he was not so naïve.

The hours spent in the company of Abreo and Sokolov during his meetings with them over the past months and attending the ICW meetings had taught him enough to see through other's intentions.

Much to his relief, with the conundrum that had been Austria and Hungary finally having been solved, those meetings had become less frequent, though he did check in with both men regularly.

The countries that had supported Grindelwald so steadfastly had, after months of negotiations, received a similar treaty to the Italians who were being watched closely.

Germany had yet to formally surrender but had been keeping abreast of the process and sanctions imposed on the others before making contact with the ICW.

The negotiations regarding them would begin soon enough, but until then, Harry was looking forward to simply spending some time away from the continent.

"I don't think I would have enjoyed a wedding like this," Harry admitted.

Minerva smirked knowingly at him.

"No, you wouldn't have," she agreed. "Imagine how much worse it would be if you were the groom?"

Harry grimaced and shook his head as he caught sight of the ice sculptures depicting the Potter and Black family crests acting as the centrepiece of the top table.

"Is that really necessary?" he asked.

Minerva nodded.

"To the purebloods it is," she snorted. "Weddings are an opportunity for them to show off to the other families. There has never been a marriage between the Potter and Blacks, so a display of wealth is expected. There are standards to uphold, my dear husband," she added, sticking her nose in the air mockingly.

Harry chuckled amusedly.

"Let's be grateful we're not them."

"Oh, Harry, it doesn't matter if you're a pureblood or not. People have expectations of you."

"Well, they can kiss my…"

"Minister Fawley!" Minerva cut in loudly as the man approached and clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"It is very good to see you, Minerva," the man greeted, taking her by the hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. "You are looking as radiant as ever. How long left?"

"Only a month," Minerva replied, placing a hand on her stomach. "Rosa is very excited."

The Minister winced, his posture stiffening.

"Where is the little scamp?" Fawley asked cautiously, his eyes darting around for any sign of the girl.

Harry did his best to hide his grin, failing miserably as he remembered what his daughter had done to the man.

Fawley had invited them over for dinner, and Rosa had found the affair rather dull.

In her boredom, she had turned the Minister's plate of spaghetti into several snakes, and as the man tried to flee from them, one of the serpents bit him on his rear.

It wasn't venomous, but the snake would not relent until Harry intervened.

Rosa had been thoroughly entertained by her trick and had demonstrated her first use of parseltongue; an equally proud and concerning moment.

Harry had considered that she might inherit the ability but hadn't given it much thought.

Ever since, she had become obsessed with the creatures, though Harry had not introduced her to his own shadowy companion.

"She is with Rosalina and Eleanor," Minerva assured the man who relaxed somewhat before making his excuses to move along.

Harry laughed heartily, internally thanking Rosa for he exploits.

"It's not funny, Harry," Minerva sighed.

"It's hilarious."

Minerva rolled her eyes at him, the corner of her lips tugging in a grin.

"Are you ready for your speech?"

Charlus had asked Harry to be his best man, a duty he had been happy to fulfil, despite having to give a public speech in front of the upper echelons of society.

"Yes," Harry huffed.

"It will be over soon enough," Minerva soothed. "Well, after you have spoken to Albus and Armando, apparently. I'm going to find our daughter and make sure she is not causing problems."

Harry frowned as Minerva left him to the approaching professors, giving him a winning smile.

Harry knew his wife well enough to know that she had planned this, but to what end?

"Ah, Harry," Armando greeted him warmly. "Having fun?"

"I would be if there weren't so many stuffy arse-kissers here," Harry answered bluntly, eliciting a chuckle from both men.

"It is the pureblood way, lad," Armando pointed out. "Your popularity and fame are unparalleled. They would be remiss in their duties to not try and befriend you."

"Well, if they want to be my friend, they should just bugger off. I'll like them more for it."

Armando shook his head amusedly.

"If you wish for a respite, there is a position open for you at the castle this year."

"Position?"

Armando nodded.

"Minerva has decided that she will be remaining at home after she gives birth, and after discussing it amongst ourselves, we can think of no one better to fill in for her."

"Charlus…"

"Has only just gotten married. He will not wish to be away from his wife."

"What about you?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

"I am currently working on a project that requires much of my attention," the man answered. "If you are unavailable, I will return to teaching full time, but would do so reluctantly. I am on the cusp of something quite spectacular."

His eyes were twinkling excitedly, and Harry narrowed his own.

"Minerva put you both up to this, didn't she?"

"On the contrary, it was me that broached the subject with her," Albus explained. "It would truly be wonderful to have you back, and the students could learn much from you."

Harry looked at the man sceptically.

"Even after I killed…"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him.

"You only did what you believed was right," he sighed. "I do not hold that against you, Harry. I am grateful that I was not forced to act."

The smile he gave Harry was genuine, and the words sincere.

His expression was pained, but that was quite understandable.

Despite everything, Albus had cared for Grindelwald.

"Can I think about it, and discuss it with my wife?" Harry asked.

Armando nodded.

"Of course," he allowed. "Any help you can give us will be most appreciated."

With that, the two men left him to it, and Harry turned his attention to where Minerva was standing with Rosalina and Eleanor who had made the trip to attend the wedding.

Releasing a deep breath, he offered his wife a nod, and the woman smiled brightly, something that never failed to pull one from Harry in kind.

(Break)

It was a bittersweet experience, if nothing else, to watch Charlus get married. It was something Angelica and William had discussed much the older their son grew, and though Dorea Black had never been mentioned as a potential match, Angelica knew her late husband would have approved.

More than anything, however, she wished he was here to see it for himself, to see how happy Charlus was and witness the man he had become.

He would proud, of that Angelica had no doubt.

Charlus had become a respectable man and was shaping up to be a fine lord.

The woman could ask no more of him.

Still, as honoured as she was to be here, her heart continued to long for William.

The day had gone by without a hitch thus far. The ceremony had been as heartfelt as any other marriage she had witnessed, and Angelica knew that Charlus and Dorea would be happy together.

Having met the woman on numerous occasions, it was clear to see that she cared deeply for Charlus, and her son all but worshipped the ground she walked on.

He was a fool in love, but Angelica would rather that than any alternative.

The past few years had taught her that any happiness that could be had should be grasped tightly, and Charlus and Dorea were doing just that.

The announcement of their engagement had raised a few eyebrows and displeased some. Only Selwyn had been so dense to attempt to interfere in the match, something no other would do.

Between Charlus and Arcturus, it would be suicide to do so, and adding Harry to the mix completed a terrifying trio that none would dare to cross.

Angelica's eyes swept across the breadth of the dancefloor until they locked onto the latter.

Not a week went by that he didn't write to her, and he visited almost as much as Charlus did to check in on her.

It was a sweet gesture on his part, and one offered with the best of intentions.

Harry cared for her as he had for William, and Angelica appreciated the young man, though she often found herself taken aback by his appearance.

His resemblance to her son and husband was almost uncanny in certain lights.

Perhaps she just saw what she wanted?

No, the similarities were impossible to ignore, and were she not so confident in William's faithfulness, she would have assumed Harry was his son.

She offered the man a smile as he looked towards her, seemingly aware of her staring.

For reasons he hadn't shared, his parentage was still something he kept close to his chest.

"May I join you?" a voice broke into her thoughts.

Angelica smiled at her daughter-in-law and patted the chair next to her.

The woman was a beauty, almost ethereally so.

The Blacks always produced such women, but Dorea's eyes were much softer than any other Angelica had met over the years at various functions she had attended with William.

"How does it feel to be the new Lady Potter?" Angelica asked.

Dorea's mouth fell agape in realisation.

"I hadn't thought of that," she replied apologetically.

Angelica waved her off.

"I'm glad it is you," she offered sincerely. "Neither Charlus nor William could have picked someone better. You make my son happy, and that is all that matters to me."

Dorea smiled.

"He makes me happy too."

"Even if he is infuriating at times?"

"Even then," Dorea returned with a grin. "Did you know the idiot has somehow coaxed a herd of griffins to the manor?"

Angelica snorted amusedly.

"It has been mentioned to me," she sighed. "Let us hope the Thestrals aren't offended. That could be quite unpleasant."

"Thestrals?" Dorea asked.

"They're very sweet creatures, just a little misunderstood," Angelica explained. "They have been there for generations, but they prefer a woman's company. Maisie feeds them, but I would appreciate it if you would try to get to know them. They would too."

Dorea nodded uncertainly.

"Are you not coming home then?" she asked. "Charlus was hoping…"

"I'm coming back to Britain," Angelica confirmed, "but Potter Manor can no longer be my home. Without William, it wouldn't feel right. There are other homes I can choose from."

"Charlus won't like that."

"Charlus will respect my wishes," Angelica replied with a grin. "He might be a grown man and the Lord Potter, but he won't tell me what to do. He's not too big to stick across my knee if that's what it takes."

Dorea giggled amusedly before sobering and taking Angelica's hand.

"It is still your home," she murmured.

Angelica squeezed her hands gratefully.

"Now it is yours," she pointed out. "I will be around, but look after my boy, Dorea. He's been through a lot."

"I will," the younger woman promised.

"Good, now where has he gone now?"

"I think Arcturus took him somewhere for the talk."

"It's a little late for that now, isn't it?" Angelica chuckled.

Dorea blushed.

"I don't know what I'll do with the pair of them," she huffed. "Dealing with one of them is bad enough."

"And Harry."

Dorea shook her head.

"For as much trouble as he finds himself in, he doesn't cause me any problems. He's always polite, respectful, and gives me no reason to be concerned when the three of them disappear into the basement. What do they even do in there anyway?"

Angelica huffed amusedly.

"You'll spend most of your life dragging them out of there. William's grandfather built it as a training room and a place to hide when there were visitors he did not wish to see. William used it, and I have no doubt my son will do the same."

Dorea hummed as she shook her head.

"Are all men like that?"

Angelica shrugged.

"I've been given no reason to think they aren't."

Dorea smiled amusedly.

"But it is worth it, putting up with their stupidity?"

"It is," Angelica confirmed. "It is worth every minute."

(Break)

It felt good to step out of the hustle and bustle of the wedding and take a moment to simply enjoy not having to be Lord Black. With Charlus, and a few others Arcturus had made the acquaintance of over the past few years, he needed only to be himself.

At home, however, and surrounded by his peers, he could not afford to let them see him as anything but the epitome of the name he carried.

It was often tiring, but the political field in Britain needed to be navigated carefully, something Arcturus couldn't forget.

"It's funny how they offer their congratulations here but were quite vocal in their disapproval of our match," Charlus sighed irritably.

"They don't know that we know how much they disliked it," Arcturus pointed out.

It was Reg, with thanks to the Lord Yaxley that had provided the list of those that had spoken out of turn, and though neither Charlus nor Arcturus would openly spurn them, they would never curry favour with either man.

"So, why did you drag me out?" Charlus questioned. "Is this the part where you threaten me?"

Arcturus snorted and shook his head.

"I know you're a good man, Charlus. You would give your life for her in a heartbeat."

"I would."

Arcturus nodded appreciatively.

"No, this isn't about me threatening you, this is me being a big brother and someone who has lost too much to this war asking you to take care of Dorea. Other than my wife and boys, she's all I have left."

Charlus's expression softened as he clapped Arcturus on the shoulder.

Perseus and his father had been killed during the war, and Cassiopeia's condition had not improved much.

At times, she had moments of lucidity before she quickly devolved back into her ramblings.

If she ever did recover, Arcturus would keep his promise that she would be surrendered to the aurors or the ICW to face punishment for what she had done.

The world wouldn't forget her part, and neither could Arcturus.

"Dorea will always have everything she could ever want or need," Charlus promised, "and you will always be welcome in our home. I suppose we're brothers now."

Arcturus allowed a sincere smile to crest his lips.

"We were brothers before today; you, me, Evans, Reg, and Gilbert. Ours just runs a little deeper now."

Charlus nodded his agreement.

"It will be in blood and magic one day, when Dorea and I are ready."

"You're not going to have a baby yet?" Arcturus asked, a frown creasing his brow.

"No, Dorea is set on spending some more time as a healer," Charlus explained. "When she becomes a mother, she wants to dedicate herself only to that. I don't think she would regret having a child now, but she would regret missing out on what she has worked so hard for."

"She would," Arcturus agreed, "and with Evans about to have another one, we've got more than enough sprogs running around to keep us on our toes."

Charlus chuckled and nodded.

"Who do you think will be next, Reg or Gilbert?"

"I wouldn't put money on either," Arcturus replied thoughtfully, "but if I had to, I would say Gilbert. Reg is always too tired for anything after his auror training."

"But he will be qualified soon."

"Qualified?" Arcturus snorted. "He's the most qualified in the Ministry already without the piece of parchment telling him that."

Charlus nodded his agreement.

"Have you given any thought to the request to train the aurors?"

"It could be fun," Arcturus mused aloud. "It would give me something else to do. You?"

"I think it's not a bad idea. Between us, Reg, and Harry, we could show them a thing or two."

"Has Harry agreed?"

"Not yet, but he will," Charlus predicted confidently. "It won't be until September anyway."

"Do you think the auror recruits will like their five am start?"

"Nobody likes a five am start," Charlus huffed. "Only Harry is sick enough to enjoy those."

(Break)

June 1944

It was a frantic Harry that paced back and forth outside his own bedroom whilst Dumbledore sat quite serenely in a chair he had conjured, his legs crossed, and his hands folded in his lap.

"She will be fine, Harry," the man assured him. "Both Poppy and Madame Morgana are with her."

Harry paused and nodded, grateful that Minerva had gone into labour when she was at home this time.

"Bloody hell, this is worse than being at war," he muttered irritably.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"You are familiar with war, Harry," he pointed out. "Here, you have no control, and you must put your faith in others that know better."

"The more time I spend with you, the more you remind of the old git I knew that I left behind," Harry retorted.

"Was I truly so bad?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shot the man an apologetic look.

"No, you did the best with what you had," he sighed. "I didn't understand that before the war."

Dumbledore offered him a warm smile.

"Such a terrible thing will teach us much," he mused aloud. "Lessons I hope no other must learn."

Harry nodded his agreement.

Even a year after the fighting had ceased, what he had experienced still haunted him, and he was certain it always would.

Dumbledore, in the way Harry had always known him, didn't miss his sudden shift in demeanour.

"I do not wish for you to think you are being forced to come back to Hogwarts, Harry," the man said sincerely.

Harry waved him off.

"I don't. I know Minerva will appreciate me covering for her. It will give me something worthwhile to do. I've not had much of that."

"Your job is very important."

"It is," Harry agreed, "but it doesn't keep me occupied or make me feel as useful as I could be. Does that make sense?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"You're not someone who is content with being idle. For so long you have felt the need to be proactive, and now that you have so much free time, it bothers you. It is natural."

"Well, teaching will keep me busy, for this year at least."

"It will," Albus confirmed with a smile, "and I'm sure you will find it to be a most rewarding experience. Has Rosalina forgiven you?" he questioned with a grin.

Harry snorted amusedly.

The woman had been pleased he had decided to return to the castle but had expected him to do so to replace her.

Harry hadn't given that much thought, but perhaps one day he would consider it.

He was happy with taking a year for Minerva's sake, but he wasn't so sure about dedicating himself to Hogwarts permanently.

In truth, he knew that if he accepted the post, he would never leave, and there was much of the world he still wanted to experience.

As a Hit-Wizard, he was well-travelled, though his excursions had been for the purpose of work.

He wanted to see it without anything else hanging over him.

"No, she hasn't forgiven me yet," he replied. "You know she will sulk and hold a grudge for a while."

Albus nodded his agreement.

"Hell hath no fury," he murmured to himself, standing suddenly as the door to the bedroom opened and Poppy beckoned for them to enter.

Harry hurried forward, leaving Dumbledore to trail behind.

Entering the room, the scent of blood tinged the air, but Minerva was laying in the bed, exhausted, with a tired smile adorning her features.

As she had almost three years prior, she was holding a bundle of white blankets to her chest, her gaze shifting between Harry and the babe she carried.

"It's a boy," Minerva whispered.

Harry smiled as he made his way towards her and chanced a glance at his son.

There was no surprise shock of red hair to greet him this time, but thick, dark locks as messy as his own had always been when he allowed them to grow.

"A boy," he murmured as he carefully took a seat next to Minerva who nodded.

"Any ideas for names?" she asked.

The only names Harry would like to choose were ones that would soon be taken by others or would simply raise too many questions.

Even in the wizarding world, Sirius was not a common name, after all.

Certainly not outside the Black family.

Harry shook his head.

"You?"

"Could we name him after my grandfather? He died when I was six, but he was the sweetest man. He raised my dad alone when my grandmother died from cancer."

With no reason to disagree, and after he had named Rosa, Harry nodded.

"What was his name?"

"Jack," Minerva answered.

"Then Jack it is."

(Break)

Having seen Dumbledore leave the castle earlier in the evening, Tom knew this would be he best opportunity to reclaim the Chamber of Secrets for himself, though what use he could get out of it when he had only a week left of school, he knew not.

The previous week, he had completed his NEWTs, and since the Christmas break, he had been bracing himself to tackle the task ahead of him.

He was prepared as best as he ever could be and decided that it had to be tonight.

There was no promise that he would be given another opportunity, after all.

Having made it through the first entrance in the second-floor bathroom, and through the tunnels leading to the door adorned with bronze snakes, Tom felt himself filled with a sense of trepidation.

The memory of what had happened here previously was not something easily forgotten.

Nonetheless, he refused to turn back and released a deep breath as he drew his wand.

"Open," he hissed.

The chamber was at it had appeared during his first visit.

Stone serpents on either side of the walkway led to where the room opened up, and at the far end, he could see a rather unflattering statue of who he assumed to be was Salazar Slytherin.

Tom had not gotten to admire that particular feature last time, but when he had deal with the magic that plagued this place, he could finally enjoy what his ancestor had created, even if it was only for a short while.

He had no doubt that Evans had been truthful when he said that he had taken anything of any use from the room, but that didn't make Tom any less eager to explore the chamber for himself.

Perhaps the man had missed something?

Shaking his head of thoughts until he could focus on anything other than the impending threat, he held his wand aloft as he tentatively took a step into the room.

Murmuring under his breath, he detected no less than a dozen spells that had been quite recently placed, most designed to only be visually impressive and threatening.

However, two of them were dangerous and would need to be removed before Tom could proceed any further.

Murmuring under his breath once more, he cast a series of charms to rid the chamber of them, grinning as he no longer felt their presence after doing so.

Cautiously, Tom took another step forward, and then another, his heart racing as he realised his efforts had been successful.

He cheered internally, the rush of adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing leaving his legs shaking.

He had done it.

For the first time, he had gotten the better of Evans.

Tom had always known he was the better, more powerful wizard, and now he had finally proven it.

Still, it was something of a hollow victory, and one he would benefit little from with how limited his time was here, but he was not going to let that ruin his moment.

He had achieved something great, something he would one day rub in Evans' face as he gloated to the man of his superiority before he killed him.

Reaching the carved statue of Slytherin's face, he smiled smugly at the visage of the founder he had idolised these past years.

Tom would be even greater than the man himself, of that he had no doubt.

"Open," he hissed curiously.

The mouth did so, the stone grating noisily as an opening formed.

Within the damp, dark cavern was an inner chamber where he could only assume the basilisk that had once resided here nested.

Around him was an array of discarded bones, and another opening on the opposite side to the mouth, that when he carefully walked down, led to a door that was already ajar.

Through it, he found what had been some sleeping quarters, a workstation, and several empty bookshelves where the dust that coated everything else was much thinner.

Evans had taken whatever books had been here, a thought that angered Tom to no end, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth that replaced the sweeter success he had enjoyed.

"I knew you would come back," a voice rang out.

Tom stiffened at the familiarity of it, his grip tightening around his wand.

"I would not feel too proud for making it this far if I were you. If I was the same monster that haunted me my entire life, you would already be dead, but I refused to become him."

Tom's nostrils flared in anger as he looked for the source of the voice.

"Show yourself!" Tom snarled.

There was no response, but for the distant sound of grinding stone.

Realising what was happening, Tom sprinted from the concealed room and barely made it back into the main chamber before the mouth closed, the expression of his ancestor somehow appearing to be disapproving of what was happening.

"Open," Tom tried.

Nothing.

The mouth remained stubbornly shut.

"OPEN!"

Again, his command failed, and Tom realised he truly had no control here. Evans had somehow taken the chamber for himself, had stolen what was rightfully Tom's.

It angered the teen, and he wanted it back, but how?

Seething, he waved his wand and muttered under his breath in an attempt to detect any further spells the man had cast, but beyond what he had discovered earlier, Tom found nothing new.

Still, he would not allow Evans to take away from his victory.

The man could conjure all the smoke and mirror tricks he wished, he had still been bested and it would be his success down here that Tom would remember.

Realising it was late, Tom decided he would take that victory and leave.

There was nothing else for him here, and though that would always irk him, he would get the last laugh.

Evans would die for all he had done, and he allowed himself some time to fantasise just how he would see to it as he made his exit from the Chamber of Secrets.

Having made his way through the tunnels, he propelled himself upwards to where the entrance was, smiling to himself as he pondered the many ways he would punish Evans when the man was at his mercy.

He could put him under the Imperius Curse and make him murder his own family.

The thought filled Tom with a glee akin to what he felt the night he had the Riddle's gardener murder them.

Landing in the bathroom, he shivered at the warmth that permeated through him, only for his blood to run cold as he was met with the tear-filled gaze of a bespectacled girl.

"What are you doing here?" she sniffed, becoming visibly angered by his appearance. "This is a girl's bathroom."

Evidently, she had been alerted by the sound of the sink descending as he arrived, and her eyes shifted towards the large opening in the floor.

"None of your business, Warren!" Tom snapped irritably.

The girl had probably come here to cry after her Hufflepuff housemates had bullied her.

Myrtle Warren was not a popular girl.

She was interfering, nosy, and spent most of her time telling tales on others.

"What is that?" she demanded haughtily, pointing to the chamber opening. "I'm going to tell Professor Dippet!"

The girl turned on the spot, and Tom panicked.

He could not afford for anyone to find the entrance to the chamber. Not even Evans would have told anyone of its existence.

"NO!" he gasped, pointing his wand at the retreating girl desperately as she opened the door.

With a loud scream and a resounding crack that echoed off the walls in and beyond the bathroom, the door smashed into the girl with so much force that it sent her into the wall opposite.

Tom froze and looked at his wand in disbelief.

He had not given any thought to what he wanted to happen, he merely wanted to stop Myrtle from telling another one of her tales.

Looking from his wand to the girl, his heart sunk into his stomach.

She was unmoving and had a deep wound in the back of her head.

Worse still, her neck was at an unnatural angle where it had been broken.

Myrtle Warren was dead, and Tom Riddle was standing next to her still-warm corpse.

(Break)

"Headmaster, there is a disturbance on the second floor."

Armando released a deep breath as he stood from behind his desk.

"Thank you, Everard," he sighed. "What is it?"

"A scream, headmaster, coming from the girl's bathroom."

"Myrtle," Armando murmured to himself.

It wasn't unusual to find the girl in that particular bathroom after a spat with her housemates. She was an emotional girl who had the best of intentions, but her peers didn't see it that way.

"I will check it out," he declared.

It was late, and Armando had already changed for bed, but regardless of the time, he would not leave a student alone in such a state.

Taking his leave of his office, he tied the belt of his dressing gown and headed towards the second floor to attend to Myrtle Warren, almost pleased he only had one more year of her presence to endure.

(Break)

Tom didn't know what to do. This wasn't like the night he had visited his muggle relatives. There, he'd had someone to take the blame for his actions, and there was no need for him to clean up after himself.

Here, he was in quite the bind.

He couldn't simply vanish the body.

The students would notice her absence, and she had parents that would be waiting for her when the Hogwarts Express reached King's Cross in only a few days.

No, that wouldn't work.

For a second, he entertained the idea of hiding her body down the tunnel leading to the Chamber of Secrets, but if a search was called and Evans happened to check it, the game would be up.

Between Evans and Dumbledore, they would figure out the truth, and the last thing Tom wanted was for anyone to dig into his past.

Thus far, no one had looked closely at his muggle relatives, and were they to do so, it would not take much skill for a competent wizard to discover what had truly happened in Little Hangelton.

Tom cursed under his breath.

His only choice was to flee.

To where, he knew not.

He didn't know enough about how magical investigations were carried out, but there would be one here soon enough and there was a glaring chance his involvement would be traced.

Perhaps he could hide in the chamber itself?

He dismissed the idea immediately for the same reason he had when pondering concealing the body in there.

From what Tom had seen, there was no other means of escaping.

He turned suddenly as the door opened, his eyes widening at the sight of Professor Dippet in his pyjamas.

Tom froze as the man took in the scene before him, his mouth falling agape as he reached for his wand.

It wasn't there, but Tom still held his.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Tom had cast the spell out of desperation, and Dippet's expression became one of utter shock as the sickly green light ploughed towards him.

The headmaster collapsed to the ground, and the man became the second corpse in the bathroom.

Tom didn't regret what he had done.

For as long as he had been aware of it, he had wanted to try the spell, but now was not the time to bask in the simplicity of taking a life.

The tolling of loud bells pulled him from his thoughts.

He needed to leave, to get away before his victims were discovered. The alarm had somehow already been raised, and there was not a second to spare.

It was at a sprint that he exited the bathroom, breathing heavily as he made his way down the stairs until he reached the Entrance Hall. Ignoring the confused students as they arrived, he headed outside and towards the gate, to freedom with the bells growing only louder.

(Break)

At barely an hour old, little Jack was an adorable baby. With his black hair, and eyes as green as his fathers, he would grow into a fine boy. How could he not with Minerva and Harry as his parents?

Albus ignored the many instances that Rosa had proven to be quite the mischief maker, though he not-so-secretly found her antics highly amusing.

Her years at Hogwarts would be most interesting if she continued as she was.

"I couldn't be prouder of either of you," Albus whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy.

He looked up to see that Minerva was sleeping lightly, tired from her ordeal, and Harry was holding her hand, his eyes fixed on his son.

"It's strange to think it has been almost three years since Rosa was born," he sighed. "I missed too much."

Albus shot the man a sympathetic smile.

"For the greatest cause," he pointed out. "Rosa will grow up with the knowledge that her father is the very best of men, Harry. She will not hold anything against you."

The man nodded appreciatively.

"I hope so."

Albus allowed him a moment of contemplation as he gently rocked the babe in his arms.

He would have liked to have been a father, but it wasn't to be.

Instead of having children of his own, he was a father of sorts to hundreds of students that passed through the castle, and he hoped to be so for many years to come.

He frowned suddenly as an odd noise began emitting from the pocket of his robes, and as he removed the glass orb, his breath hitched in his chest.

Armando had given him this upon promoting him to the position of deputy head, and Albus had been assured that he would only be alerted by it in the direst of circumstances.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"There is an emergency at Hogwarts."

"What kind of emergency?"

Albus thought back to when he had received the orb, and the explanation Armando had given him.

Blue meant that a student had gone missing.

Orange meant the castle was under attack.

Red meant…

"Someone has died!" he gasped as he stood.

The disturbance woke Jack who began crying which woke Minerva in turn.

Harry relieved Albus of the babe before calling for his elf.

"I need you to stay here, Kora," he instructed, handing her the new-born. "No one is to enter or leave this room unless it is me."

The elf nodded immediately, and Harry began hissing under his breath.

A blue glow filled the room briefly before all seemed to return to normal, though Albus could feel the undercurrent of something exceedingly dangerous permeating the air.

"What's happened?" Minerva asked groggily.

"Something at Hogwarts," Harry explained. "I will go with Albus to see what it is."

He then hissed loudly, and an enormous serpent emerged seemingly from his shadow and coiled protectively around the bed, poised and ready to strike.

Albus had heard rumours of such a creature becoming Harry's companion but seeing it for himself was something else entirely.

It appeared to be made of smoke, and its molten eyes were like lava.

The snake must have been thirty feet long.

"Come on," Harry urged, taking Albus by the wrist.

The two of them vanished and appeared outside of the barred gates of the school.

"Can you open them?" Harry asked loudly over the sound of ringing bells.

Albus nodded as he drew his wand and sliced a shallow cut into his palm before placing it on the lock.

The gates swung open with a groan, and the two men hurried towards the castle, neither speaking.

It was to a scene of shock they arrived to.

The Entrance Hall was full of students from every house, all of whom were terrified, and some in tears.

"What has happened?" Albus asked one of the Hufflepuff prefects frantically.

The boy was mute, completely in shock.

"ALBUS, COME QUICK!" the voice of Rosalina Nott called, the usually unshakable woman in quite the state of despair.

Both Harry and Albus rushed up the stairs, the younger of the two storming ahead.

By the time Albus caught up, Harry had reached the girl's bathroom on the second floor and was peering within.

"Get all the students in the Great Hall!" he barked commandingly. "Lock them in. No one leaves the castle until I say so. Rosalina, send for the aurors. Get a move on, time is something we cannot waste."

The assembled staff members moved to carry out Harry's instructions, and Albus finally caught a glimpse of the horror within.

He immediately recognised the broken form of Myrtle Warren slumped on the floor by the far wall, a pool of blood surrounding her lifeless body.

His eyes then fell to Armando, his final expression not one of fear, but of shock.

Albus felt the tears spill from his eyes as he looked upon one of his oldest friends.

"No," he choked through the pain.

He couldn't be sure how long he stood and simply stared, but it was Harry who pulled him from his thoughts.

"Albus, I need you to help me," he said gently.

Albus nodded dumbly, struggling to tear his eyes away, but he did so only to wish he hadn't.

The sight of the two bodies being something that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

His vision of Armando was broken by Harry kneeling over the man.

"Killing curse," he murmured to himself, and seemingly began following a magical trail of sorts until he reached Myrtle. "Broken neck from her impact against the wall. He stood here when he killed Armando who didn't even have his wand."

Harry then walked to an opening where one of the sinks should have been and hissed, bringing the fitting back to its rightful place.

"She saw him coming out," he sighed as he walked to the door. "She tried to leave, and he hit her with the door with enough force to send her to the other side of the room. He fled after he killed Armando."

Albus couldn't be certain of the veracity with which Harry spoke, but he wouldn't question the man on it.

He had only one question he needed the answer to, but he feared he already knew it.

"Who?" he asked.

Harry's eyes were alight with a mixture of anger and sadness as he spoke only a single word.

"Riddle."

It was all the confirmation Albus needed, and knowing what happened, the transfiguration professor broke down and cried for the poor girl who had fallen victim to the hateful boy, and for his dearest friend who only ever tried to be a good headmaster.

(Break)

Tom had just managed to escape the grounds before the gates slammed behind him. Breathing heavily and uncertain what to do, he took stock of his options.

He couldn't return to the orphanage, they would look for him there, and he couldn't go to Mr Burke.

The man liked him well enough, but not so much that he would hide him from the aurors for what he had done.

He needed to lie low, just long enough that he wouldn't be found for a few days, and he knew the perfect place.

Without any further preamble, he apparated away, and arrived in the cave he had visited so many years prior, the very same one her had brought Bishop and Benson to.

No one would find him here.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he played over what had happened in his mind, and though it had gone by in a blur, Tom regretted nothing.

The thrill of taking a life was second to nothing else, and even the dark stain of it was welcoming.

He paused as he realised what this meant.

Quickly, he retrieved his diary from within his robes along with his trunk that he always kept with him and resized it before placing it on the floor.

Tom had taken his trunk everywhere with him since he had learned how to shrink it during his second year.

His life in the orphanage had taught him that if the opportunity presented itself, someone would help themselves to what meagre possessions he had.

That was behind him now, as was his time at Hogwarts.

He would need to consider what he could do, but for the time being, he needed to act fast.

Hurriedly, yet accurately, he drew the required runes on the floor and placed the diary in the centre of the circle.

Tom had intended on making his first Horcrux when he left school, but unexpectedly, it had happened much sooner.

With a smile, he twirled his wand between his fingers and began chanting under his breath, unleashing a scream of agony as he felt the tainted part of his soul being torn away from the rest of him.